THE  HELPERS 


BY  FRANCIS  LYNDE 


^^mvsidtVte^ 


BOSTON  AND   NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND   COMPANY 

1899 


-\10P-YRiGHV,    l399,    BY    rr./.rXIJ    L'iNDE 
ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


TO    THE  MEN  AND   WOMEN  OF   THE 

G  UILD   COMPA  SSI  ON  A  TE, 

GREETING: 

Forasmuch  as  it  hath  seemed  good  in  the  eijes  of 
many  to  write  of  those  things  which  make  for  the  dis- 
heartening of  all  humankind,  these  things  are  written 
in  the  hope  that  the  God-gift  of  loving-kindness,  shared 
alike  by  saint  and  sinner,  may  in  some  poor  measure 
he  given  its  due. 

The  Author. 


%,Af^mt<^ 


THE   HELPERS 


CHAPTER   I 


The  curtain  had  gone  down  on  the  first  act  of 
the  opera,  and  Jeffard  found  his  hat  and  rose  to  go 
out.  His  place  was  the  fourth  from  the  aisle,  and 
after  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  make  a  passageway 
for  him  without  rising,  the  two  young  women  and 
the  elderly  man  stood  ujd  and  folded  their  opera 
chairs.  Being  driven  to  think  pointedly  of  some- 
thing else,  Jeffard  neglected  to  acknowledge  the 
courtesy ;  and  the  two  young  women  balanced  the 
account  by  discussing  him  after  he  had  passed  out 
of  hearing. 

"  I  think  he  might  at  least  have  said  '  Thank 
you,'  "  protested  the  one  in  the  black-plimied  picture- 
hat,  preening  herself  after  the  manner  of  ruffled 
birds  and  disturbed  womankind.  "  I  'm  in  love  with 
your  mountains,  and  your  climate,  and  your  end-of- 
the-century  impetus,  but  1  can't  say  that  I  particu- 
larly admire  Denver  manners." 

The  clear-eyed  young  woman  in  the  modest  toque 
laughed  joyously. 

"  Go  on,  Myra  dear ;  don't  mind  me.  It 's  so 
refreshing  to  hear  an  out-of-church  opinion  on  one's 


2  THE  HELPERS 

self.  I  kn-jw  ovr  manners  are  perfectly  primitive, 
but  what  can  yon  expect  when  every  train  from  the 
Last  brings  us  u  now  lot  of  people  to  civilize? 
When  you  are  tempted  to  groan  over  our  short- 
comings it  '11  comfort  you  wonderfully  if  you  will 
just  stop  long  enough  to  remember  that  a  good 
many  of  us  are  the  newest  of  new  tenderfoots." 

"  Tenderfoots  !     What  an  expression  !  " 

"  It 's  good  English,  though  we  did  use  to  say 
'  tenderfeet '  before  the  '  Century  Dictionary '  set  us 
right.     And  it  calls  the  turn,  as  poppa  would  say." 

She  of  the  far-reaching  plumes  bent  her  eyebrows 
in  severe  deprecation. 

"  Connie,  your  slang  is  simply  vicious.  Will  you 
be  good  enough  to  tell  me  what  '  calls  the  turn ' 
means  ?  " 

"  Ask  poppa." 

Appealed  to  by  the  censorious  one,  the  elderly 
man  stopped  twiddling  the  bit  of  gold  quartz  on  his 
watch-guard  long  enough  to  explain.  He  did  it  with 
a  little  hesitancy,  picking  his  way  among  the  words 
as  one  might  handle  broken  glass,  or  the  edged  tools 
of  an  unfamiliar  trade.  He  was  a  plain  man,  and 
he  stood  in  considerable  awe  of  the  picture-hat  and 
its  wearer.  When  he  had  finished,  the  toque  made 
honorable  amends. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Myra.  Really,  I  did  n't 
know  it  had  anything  to  do  with  gambling.  But 
to  go  back  to  our  manners :  I  '11  give  you  the 
ponies  and  the  phaeton  if  I  don't  convince  you  that 
the  absent-minded  gentleman  on  our   left  here  is 


THE   HELPERS  3 

the  tenderest  of  tenderfoots  —  most  probably  from 
Philadelphia,  too,"  she  added,  in  mischievous  after- 
thought. 

"  You  would  n't  dare  !  " 

"  You  tliink  not  ?  Just  wait  and  you  'U  see. 
Oh,  cousin  mine,  you  've  a  lot  to  learn  about  your 
kind,  yet.  If  you  stay  out  here  six  months  or  a 
year,  you  will  begin  to  think  your  philosophy  has  n't 
been  half  dreamful  enough." 

"  How  absurd  you  are,  Constance.  If  I  did  n't 
know  you  to  be  "  — 

"  Wait  a  minute ;  let  me  start  you  off  right : 
good,  and  sensible,  and  modest,  and  unassuming, 
and  dutiful,  and  brimfid  of  fads "  —  she  checked 
the  attributes  off  on  her  fingers.  "  You  see  I  have 
them  all  by  heart." 

The  little  cloud  of  dust  puffing  from  beneath  the 
drop-curtain  began  to  subside,  and  the  thumping 
and  rumbling  on  the  stage  died  away  what  time  the 
musicians  were  clambering  back  to  their  places  in 
the  orchestra.  Miss  Van  Vetter  swept  the  aisles 
and  the  standing-room  with  her  opera-glass. 

"  You  wiU  not  have  a  chance  to  prove  it,  Connie. 
He  is  n't  coming  back." 

"  Don't  you  believe  it.  I  am  quite  sure  he  is  a 
gentleman  who  always  gets  the  worth  of  his  money." 

"  What  makes  you  say  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  ;  intuition,  I  suppose.  That 's 
what  they  call  it  in  a  woman,  though  I  think  it 
woidd  be  called  good  judgment  in  a  man." 

Taking   him  at   his  worst.   Miss    Elliott's   terse 


4  THE   HELPERS 

characterization  of  Henry  Jeffard  was  not  alto- 
gether inaccurate,  though,  in  the  present  instance, 
he  would  not  have  gone  back  to  the  theatre  if  he 
had  knowii  what  else  to  do  with  himself.  Indeed, 
he  was  minded  not  to  go  back,  but  a  turn  in  the 
open  air  made  him  think  better  of  it,  and  he 
strolled  in  as  the  curtain  was  rising.  Whereupon 
the  elderly  man  and  the  two  young  women  had  to 
stand  again  while  he  edged  past  them  to  his  chair. 

This  time  he  remembered,  and  said  something 
about  being  sorry  to  trouble  them.  Miss  Elliott's 
chair  was  next  to  his,  and  she  smiled  and  nodded 
reassuringly.  Jeffard  was  moody  and  disheartened, 
and  the  nod  and  the  smile  went  near  to  the  better 
part  of  him.  He  kept  his  seat  during  the  next  in- 
termission, and  ventured  a  civil  commonplace  about 
the  opera.  The  young  woman  replied  in  kind,  and 
the  wheel  thus  set  in  motion  soon  rolled  away  from 
the  beaten  track  of  trivialities  into  a  path  leading 
straight  to  the  fulfillment  of  Miss  Elliott's  promise 
to  her  cousin. 

"  Then  you  have  n't  been  long  in  Denver,"  she 
hazarded  on  the  strength  of  a  remark  which  be- 
trayed his  unfamiliarity  with  Colorado. 

"  Only  a  few  weeks." 

"  And  you  like  it  ?     Everj^  one  does,  you  know." 

Jeffard  tried  to  look  decorously  acquiescent  and 
made  a  failure  of  it. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  polite  and  say  yes ;  but 
for  once  in  a  way,  I  'm  going  to  be  sincere  and  say 
no." 


THE   HELPERS  5 

"  You  surprise  me !  I  thought  everybody,  and 
especially  new-comers,  liked  Denver ;  enthusiastically 
at  first,  and  rather  more  than  less  afterward." 

"  Perhaps  I  am  the  exception,"  he  suggested, 
willing  to  concede  something.  "  I  fancy  it  depends 
very  much  upon  the  point  of  view.  To  be  brutally 
frank  about  it,  I  came  here  —  like  some  few  hun- 
dreds of  others,  I  presume  —  to  make  my  fortune  ; 
and  I  think  I  would  better  have  stayed  at  home.  I 
seem  to  have  arrived  a  decade  or  two  after  the  fact." 

The  young  woman  never  swerved  from  her  inten- 
tion by  a  hair's-breadth. 

"  Yes  ?  "  she  queried.  "  It 's  too  true  that  these 
are  not  the  palmy  days  of  the  '  Matchless '  and  the 
'  Little  Pittsburg,'  notwithstanding  Creede  and 
Cripple  Creek.  And  yet  it  would  seem  that  even 
now  our  Colorado  is  a  fairer  field  for  ambition  and 
energy  than  "  — 

She  paused,  and  Jeffard,  with  an  unanalyzed  im- 
pression that  it  was  both  very  singular  and  very 
pleasant  to  be  talking  thus  freely  with  a  self-con- 
tained young  woman  whose  serenity  was  apparently 
undisturbed  by  any  notions  of  conventionality,  said, 
"  Than  a  city  of  the  fifth  class  in  New  England,  let 
us  say.  Yes,  I  concede  that,  if  you  include  ambi- 
tion ;  but  when  it  comes  to  a  plain  question  of  earn- 
ing a  living  "  — 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,"  she  rejoined,  quite  willing  to 
argue  with  him  now  that  her  point  was  gained,  "  if 
it  is  merely  a  question  of  getting  enough  to  eat  and 
di-ink  I  suppose  that  can  be  answered  anywhere. 


6  THE   HELPERS 

Even  the  Utes  managed  to  answer  it  here  before 
the  Government  begun  feeding  them." 

Pie  regai'ded  her  curiously,  trymg  to  determine 
her  social  point  of  view  by  the  many  little  outward 
signs  of  prosperity  which  tasteful  simplicity,  imham- 
pered  by  a  lean  purse,  may  exhibit. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  laiow  anything  at  all  about  it," 
he  said,  half  musingly. 

"  About  getting  something  to  cat  ?  "  Her  laugh 
was  a  ripple  of  pure  joy  that  had  the  tonic  of  the 
altitudes  in  it.  "I  dare  say  I  don't — not  in  any 
practical  way ;  though  I  do  go  about  among  our 
poor  people.  That  is  what  makes  me  imcharitable. 
I  can't  help  knowing  why  so  many  people  have  to 
go  hungry." 

Jeffard  winced  as  if  the  uncharity  had  a  personal 
application. 

"  We  were  speaking  of  fortunes,"  he  corrected, 
calmly  ignoring  the  fact  that  his  own  remark  had 
brought  up  the  question  of  the  struggle  for  exist- 
ence. "  I  think  my  o^^^l  case  is  a  fair  example  of 
what  comes  of  chasing  ambitious  phantoms.  I  gave 
up  a  modest  certainty  at  home  to  come  here,  and  " — 
The  musicians  were  taking  their  places  again,  and  he 
stopped  abruptly. 

"  And  now  ?  "  The  words  uttered  themselves,  and 
she  was  sorry  for  them  when  they  were  beyond 
recall. 

His  gesture  was  expressive  of  disgust,  but  there 
was  no  resentment  in  his  reply. 

"  That  was  some  time  ago,  as  I  have  intimated ; 


THE   HELPERS  7 

and  I  am  still  here  and  beginning  to  wish  very 
heartily  that  I  had  never  come.  I  presume  you  can 
infer  the  rest." 

The  leader  hfted  his  baton,  and  the  curtain  rose 
on  the  third  act  of  the  opera.  At  the  same  moment 
the  curtain  of  unacquaintance,  drawn  aside  a  hand's- 
breadth  by  the  young  woman's  curiosity,  fell  be- 
tween these  two  who  knew  not  so  much  as  each 
other's  names,  and  who  assumed  —  if  either  of 
them  thought  anything  about  it  —  that  the  wave  of 
chance  which  had  tossed  them  together  would  pre- 
sently sweep  them  apart  again. 

After  the  opera  the  ebbing  tide  of  humanity  did 
so  separate  them ;  but  when  the  man  had  melted 
into  the  crowd  in  the  foyer,  the  yomig  woman  had  a 
curious  little  thrill  of  regret ;  a  twinge  of  remorse 
born  of  the  recollection  that  she  had  made  him  open 
the  book  of  his  life  to  a  stranger  for  the  satisfying 
of  a  mere  whim  of  curiosity. 

Miss  Van  Vetter  was  ominously  silent  on  the  way 
home,  but  she  made  it  a  point  of  conscience  to  go 
to  Constance's  room  before  her  cousin  had  gone  to 
bed. 

"  Connie  Elliott,"  she  began,  "  you  deserve  to  be 
shaken !  How  did  you  dare  to  talk  with  that  young 
man  without  knowing  the  first  syllable  about  him  ?  " 

Constance  sat  dowTi  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  and 
laughed  till  the  tears  came. 

"  Oh,  Myra  dear,"  she  gasped,  "  it 's  worth  any 
amount  of  disgrace  to  see  you  ruffle  your  feathers 
so  beautifidly.     Don't  you  see  that  I  talked  to  him 


8  THE  HELPERS 

just  because  I  did  n't  know  any  of  the  syllables? 
And  he  told  me  a  lot  of  them." 

"  I  slioidd  think  he  did.  I  suppose  he  wiU  call 
on  you  next." 

Connie  the  unconventional  became  Miss  Elliott 
in  the  smallest  appreciable  lapse  of  time.  ""  Indeed, 
he  will  not.  He  knows  better  than  to  do  that,  even 
if  he  is  a  ten —  " 

But  Miss  Van  Vetter  was  gone. 


CHAPTER   II 

When  Jeffard  left  the  theatre  he  went  to  his 
room ;  but  not  directly.  He  made  a  detour  of  a 
few  squares  which  took  him  down  Sixteenth  Street 
to  Larimer,  and  so  on  around  to  his  lodging,  which 
was  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  St.  James  hotel. 

After  the  manner  of  those  whose  goings  and  com- 
ings have  reached  the  accusative  point,  he  took  the 
trouble  to  assure  himself  that  the  burning  of  a  cigar 
in  the  open  air  was  the  excuse  for  the  roundabout 
walk ;  but  the  real  reason  showed  its  head  for  a 
moment  or  two  when  he  slackened  his  pace  at  one 
point  in  the  circuit  and  glanced  furtively  up  at  a 
row  of  carefully  shaded  windows  in  the  second  story 
of  a  building  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street. 

The  lower  part  of  the  building  was  dark  and  de- 
serted ;  but  in  the  alley  there  was  a  small  hallway 
screened  by  a  pair  of  swing  doors  with  glass  eyes 
in  them,  and  at  the  end  of  the  hallway  a  carpeted 
stair  leading  up  to  the  lighted  room  above.  It  was 
to  keep  from  climbing  this  stair  that  Jeffard  had 
gone  to  the  theatre  earlier  in  the  evening. 

Opposite  the  alley  he  stopped  and  made  as  if  he 
would  cross  the  street,  but  the  impulse  seemed  to 
expend  itself  in  the  moment  of  hesitation,  and  he 
went  on  again,  slowly,  as  one  to  whom  dubiety  has 


10  THE  HELPERS 

lent  its  leaden-soled  shoes.  Reaching  his  room  he 
lighted  the  gas  and  dropped  into  a  chair,  his  hands 
deep-buried  in  his  pockets,  and  a  look  of  something 
like  desperation  in  his  eyes. 

The  suggestive  outline  of  his  Western  experience 
sketched  between  the  acts  of  the  opera  for  the 
young  woman  with  the  reassuring  smile  was  made 
up  of  half-truths,  as  such  confidences  are  wont  to 
be.  It  was  true  that  he  had  come  to  Colorado  to 
seek  his  fortune,  and  that  thus  far  the  quest  had 
been  bootless.  But  it  was  also  true  that  he  had 
begun  by  persuading  himself  that  he  must  first 
study  his  environment;  and  that  the  curriculum 
which  he  had  chosen  was  comprehensive,  exhaust- 
ive, and  costly  enough  to  speedily  absorb  the  few 
thousand  dollars  which  were  to  have  been  his  lure 
for  success. 

His  walk  in  life  hitherto  had  been  decently  irre- 
proachable, hedged  in  on  either  hand  by  such  good 
habits  as  may  be  formed  by  the  attrition  of  a  moral 
community ;  but  since  these  were  more  the  attri- 
butes of  time  and  place  than  of  the  man,  and  were 
unconsciously  left  behind  in  the  leave-takings,  a 
species  of  msanity,  known  only  to  those  who  have 
habitually  worn  the  harness  of  self-restraint,  had 
come  upon  him  in  the  new  environment.  At  first 
it  had  been  but  a  vagrant  impulse,  and  as  such  he 
had  suffered  it  to  put  a  bandage  on  the  eyes  of  rea- 
son. Later,  when  he  would  fain  have  removed  the 
bandage,  he  found  it  tied  in  a  hard  knot. 

For  the  hundredth  time  within  a  mouth  he  was 


THE  HELPERS  11 

once  more  tugging  at  the  knot.  To  give  himself 
the  benefit  of  an  object-lesson,  he  turned  his  pockets 
inside  out,  throwing  together  a  small  heap  of  loose 
silver  and  crumpled  bank-notes  on  the  table.  After 
which  he  made  a  deliberate  accounting,  smoothing 
the  creases  out  of  the  bills,  and  building  an  accu- 
rate little  pillar  with  the  coins.  The  exact  sum 
ascertained,  he  sat  back  and  regarded  the  money 
reflectively. 

"  Ninety-five  dollars  and  forty-five  cents.  That 's 
what  there  is  left  out  of  the  nest-egg ;  and  I  've 
been  here  rather  less  than  four  months.  At  that 
rate  I  've  averaged,  let  me  see  "  —  he  knitted  his 
brows  and  made  an  approximate  calculation  —  "  say, 
fifty  dollars  a  day.  Consequently,  the  miH  will  run 
out  of  grist  in  less  than  two  days,  or  it  would  if  the 
law  of  averages  held  good  —  wliich  it  does  n't,  in 
this  case.  Taking  the  last  fortnight  as  a  basis,  I  'm 
capitalized  for  just  about  one  hour  longer." 

He  looked  at  his  watch  and  got  up  wearily. 
"  It 's  Kismet,"  he  mused.  "  I  might  as  well  take 
my  hour  now,  and  be  done  with  it."  Whereupon 
he  rolled  the  money  into  a  compact  little  bundle, 
turned  off  the  gas,  and  felt  his  way  down  the  dark 
stair  to  the  street. 

At  the  corner  he  ran  against  a  stalwart  young 
fellow,  gloved  and  overcoated,  and  carrying  a  valise. 

"  Why,  hello,  Jeffard,  old  man,"  said  the  traveler 
heartily,  stopping  to  shake  hands.  "  Doing  time  on 
the  street  at  midnight,  as  usual,  are  n't  you  ?  When 
do  you  ever  catch  up  on  your  sleep? " 


12  THE  HELPERS 

Jeffard's  laugh  was  perfunctory.  "  T  don't  have 
much  to  do  but  eat  and  sleep,"  he  replied.  "  Have 
you  been  somewhere  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  just  got  down  from  the  mine  —  train  was 
late.  Same  old  story  with  yoii,  I  suppose  ?  Have  n't 
found  the  barrel  of  money  lolling  up  hill  yet  ?  " 

Jeffard  shook  his  head. 

"  Jeff,  you  're  an  ass  —  that 's  what  you  are  ;  a 
humpbacked  burro  of  the  Saguache,  at  that !  You 
come  out  here  in  the  morning  of  a  bad  year  with  a 
piece  of  sheepskin  in  your  grip,  and  the  Lord  knows 
what  little  pickings  of  civil  engineering  in  your 
head,  and  camp  down  in  Denver  expecting  your 
lucky  day  to  come  along  and  slap  you  in  the  face. 
Why  don't  you  come  up  on  the  range  and  take  hold 
with  your  hands  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  '11  have  to  before  I  get  through," 
Jeffard  admitted  ;  and  then  :  "  Don't  abuse  me  to- 
night, Bartrow.     I  've  about  all  I  can  carry." 

The  stalwart  one  put  his  free  arm  about  his 
friend  and  swung  him  around  to  the  light. 

"  And  that  is  n't  the  worst  of  it,"  he  went  on, 
ignoring  Jeffard's  protest.  "  You  've  been  monkey- 
ing with  the  fire  and  getting  your  fingers  burned ; 
and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  making  ducks  and 
drakes  of  your  little  stake.  Drop  it  all,  Jeffard, 
and  come  across  to  the  St.  James  and  smoke  a  cigar 
with  me." 

"  I  can't  to-night,  Bartrow.  I  'm  in  a  blue  funk, 
and  I  've  got  to  walk  it  off." 

"  Blue  nothing !     You  '11  walk  about  two  blocks, 


THE   HELPERS  13 

more  or  less,  and  then  you  '11  pull  up  a  chair  and 
proceed  to  burn  your  fingers  some  more.  Oh,  I 
know  the  symptoms  like  a  book." 

Jeffard  summoned  his  dignity,  and  found  some 
few  shreds  and  patches  of  it  left.  "  Bartrow,  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  overdrawing  one's  account  with  a 
friend,"  he  returned  stiffly.  "  I  don't  want  to  quar- 
rel with  you.      Good-night." 

Three  minutes  later  the  goggle-eyed  swing  doors 
opened  and  engulfed  him.  At  the  top  of  the  car- 
peted stair  he  met  a  hard-faced  man  who  was  dou- 
blmg  a  thick  sheaf  of  bank-notes  into  portable  shape. 
The  outgoer  nodded,  and  tapped  the  roll  signifi- 
cantly. "  Go  in  and  break  'em,"  he  rasped.  "  The 
bank  's  out  o'  luck  to-night,  and  it 's  our  rake-off. 
I  win  aU  I  can  stand." 

Jeffard  pushed  through  another  swing  door  and 
went  to  the  faro-table.  Counting  his  money  he 
dropped  the  odd  change  back  into  his  pocket  and 
handed  the  bills  to  the  banker. 

"  Ninety-five  ?  "  queried  the  man  ;  and  when  Jef- 
fard nodded,  he  pushed  the  requisite  number  of 
blue,  red,  and  white  counters  across  the  table.  Jef- 
fard arranged  them  in  a  symmetrical  row  m  front  of 
him,  and  began  to  play  with  the  singleness  of  pur- 
pose which  is  the  characteristic  of  that  particular 
form  of  dementia. 

It  was  the  old  story  with  the  usual  variations. 
He  lost,  won,  and  then  lost  again  until  he  coidd 
reckon  his  counters  by  units.  After  which  the  tide 
turned  once  more,  and  the  roar  of  its  flood  dinned  in 


14  THE   HELPERS 

his  ears  like  the  drumming  of  a  tornado  in  a  forest. 
His  capital  grew  by  leaps  and  bounds,  doubling, 
trebling,  and  finally  quadrui)ling  the  sum  he  had 
handed  the  banker.  Then  his  hands  began  to 
shake,  and  the  man  on  his  right  paused  in  his  own 
play  long  enough  to  say,  "  Now  's  yer  time  to  cash 
in,  pardner.     Yer  nerve  's  a-flickerin'." 

The  prudent  advice  fell  upon  deaf  ears.  Jeffard's 
soul  was  Berserk  in  the  fierce  battle  with  chance, 
and  he  began  placing  the  counters  upon  certain  of 
the  inlaid  cards  before  him,  stopping  only  when  he 
had  staked  his  last  dollar.  Five  minutes  afterward 
he  was  standing  on  the  sidewalk  again,  drawing  in 
deep  breaths  of  the  keen  morning  air,  and  wonder- 
ing if  it  were  only  the  possession  of  the  thing  called 
money  that  kept  one's  head  from  buzzing  ordinarily. 
In  the  midst  of  the  unspoken  query  the  shuffling 
figure  of  a  night  tramp  sidled  up  to  him,  and  he 
heard  imperfectly  the  stereotyped  appeal. 

"  Hungry,  you  say  ?  Perhaps  I  '11  be  that,  my- 
self, before  long.     Here  you  are.^' 

The  odd  change  jingled  into  the  outstretched 
palm  of  the  vagrant,  and  for  the  first  time  in  a 
fairly  industrious  life  Jeffard  knew  what  it  felt  like 
to  be  quite  without  money- 

"  That  is,  I  think  I  do,  but  I  don't,"  he  mused, 
walking  slowly  in  the  direction  of  his  room.  "  It 
is  n't  breakfast-time  yet ;  and  by  the  same  token, 
it  is  n't  going  to  be  for  a  good  while.  I  beheve  I 
can  sleep  the  clock  around,  now  that  I  've  reached 
the  bottom." 


CHAPTER   III 

When  one  has  sown  the  wind,  and  the  whirlwind 
harvest  is  begun,  it  is  easy  to  imagine  that  the  first 
few  strokes  of  the  sickle  have  gathered  in  all  the 
bitterness  there  is  in  the  crop.  Some  such  illusory 
assumption  lent  itseK  to  Jeffard's  mood  when  he 
assui-ed  himself  that  he  had  finally  reached  the  bot- 
tom ;  but  the  light  of  a  new  day,  and  a  habit  of 
early  rising  which  was  not  to  be  broken  at  such 
short  notice,  brought  a  clearer  perspective. 

In  lieu  of  breakfast  he  wallied  up  one  street  and 
down  another,  carefully  avoiding  the  vicinity  of  the 
St.  James  for  fear  Bartrow  might  offer  him  hospi- 
tality, and  dodging  the  haunts  of  his  few  acquaint- 
ances in  the  downtown  thoroughfares  for  the  same 
reason.  This  drove  him  to  the  residence  district ; 
and  out  in  Colfax  Avenue  he  met  the  elderly  man 
whom  he  had  taken  to  be  the  father  of  the  young 
woman  with  the  kindly  nod  and  smile. 

Seeing  liun  in  daylight,  JefPard  recognized  a 
familiar  figure  of  the  Mining  Exchange  and  the 
brokers'  offices,  and  thought  it  not  unlikely  that  he 
might  presently  stumble  upon  the  home  of  the 
young  woman.  He  found  it  a  square  or  two  farther 
out,  identifying  it  by  a  glimpse  of  the  young  woman 
herself,  who  was  on  the  veranda,  looping  up  the  ten- 
drils of  a  climbing  rose. 


16  THE  HELPERS 

At  sight  of  her  Jeffard  forgot  his  penalties  for 
the  moment,  and  the  early  morning  sunshine  seemed 
to  take  on  a  kindlier  glow.  She  was  standing  on 
the  arm  of  a  clumsy  veranda-chair,  trying  vainly  to 
reach  the  higher  branches  of  the  rose,  and  Jefifard 
remarked  that  she  was  small  almost  to  girlishness. 
But  the  suggestion  of  immaturity  paused  with  her 
stature.  The  rounded  arms  discovered  by  the  loose 
sleeves  of  her  belted  house-gown  ;  the  firm,  full  out- 
line of  her  figure  ;  the  crowning  glory  of  red-brown 
hair  with  the  heart  of  the  sunlight  in  it ;  the  self- 
contained  poise  on  the  arm  of  the  gi-eat  chair  ;  these 
were  all  womanly,  and  the  glimpse  stirred  the  waters 
of  a  neglected  pool  in  Jeffard's  past  as  he  went  on 
his  aimless  way  along  the  avenue. 

There  was  a  closely  written  leaf  in  the  book  of 
memory  which  he  had  sought  to  tear  out  and  de- 
stroy ;  but  the  sight  of  the  graceful  figure  poised  on 
the  arm  of  the  big  chair  opened  the  record  at  the 
forbidden  page,  and  the  imagined  personality  of  the 
sweet-faced  young  woman  with  the  red-brown  hair 
and  sympathetic  eyes  set  itself  antithetically  over 
against  the  self-seeking  ambition  of  the  girl  who  had 
wiutten  her  own  epitaph  in  the  book  of  his  remem- 
brance. He  g^ve  place  to  the  sharply  defhied  con- 
trast for  a  time,  indulging  it  as  one  who  plunges  not 
unwiUingly  into  the  past  for  the  sake  of  escaping 
the  present,  and  banishing  it  only  when  his  shorten- 
ing shadow  gave  token  that  the  chance  of  a  break- 
fast invitation  was  no  longer  to  be  apprehended. 

But  when  he  turned  his  face  cityward  it  was  with 


THE   HELPERS  17 

a  conscious  avoidance  of  the  route  which  would  lead 
him  past  the  house  with  a  climbing  rose  on  one  of 
its  veranda  pillars.  For  what  had  a  man  to  whom 
the  proletary's  highway  was  already  opening  up  its 
cheerless  vista  to  do  with  love,  and  dalliance,  and 
heaven-suggestive  pictures  of  domestic  beatitude  ? 

Once  more  in  Sixteenth  Street,  the  moneyless 
reality  thrust  itself  upon  hun  with  renewed  insist- 
ence, and  he  turned  a  corner  abruptly  to  escape  an 
acquaintance  who  was  crossing  the  street.  The 
shame  of  it  was  too  new  to  strike  hands  with  dissim- 
idation  as  yet,  and  companionsliip  was  least  of  all 
things  to  be  desired.  If  he  could  but  win  back  to 
his  room  unaccosted  and  lock  himself  in  until  the 
sharpness  of  hunger  should  have  exorcised  the  devil 
of  humiliation,  he  might  hope  to  be  able  to  face  an 
accusing  world  with  such  equanimity  as  may  be  born 
of  desperation. 

But  fate  willed  otherwise.  As  he  was  passing  a 
deep-set  doorway  giving  on  the  sidewalk,  a  friendly 
arm  shot  out  and  barred  the  way.  Jeffard  looked 
up  with  an  unspoken  malediction  on  his  tongue.  It 
was  Bartrow.  In  his  haste  to  gain  his  lodging  the 
shamed  one  had  forgotten  the  proximity  of  the  St. 
James  hotel. 

"  You  're  a  chump !  "  declared  the  broad-shoul- 
dered young  miner,  backing  Jeffard  against  the  wall 
and  pinning  him  fast  with  one  finger.  "  You  're  no 
man's  man,  and  you  're  not  fit  to  live  in  a  man's 
town.  Why  did  n't  you  come  around  to  breakfast 
this  morning,  like  decent  people  ?  " 


18  THE   HELPERS 

"  I  'm  not  boarding  at  the  St.  James  now."  Jef- 
fiircl  tried  to  say  it  naturally,  but  the  evasion  was 
pal])able  enough. 

"  What  of  that  ?  Could  n't  you  afford  to  be  socia- 
ble once  in  a  way  ?  " 

Jeffard  prevaricated,  and  since  he  was  but  a 
clumsy  har,  contrived  to  fall  into  a  snare  of  his  own 
setting. 

"  I  was  up  too  early  for  you,  I  guess.  When  I 
came  by,  the  clerk  told  me  you  were  n't  down  yet." 

Bartrow  shook  his  head  and  appeared  to  be  much 
moved. 

"  What  an  abnormal  liar  that  clerk  must  be,"  he 
commented  reflectively.  "  I  asked  him  five  minutes 
ago  if  any  one  had  inquired  for  me,  and  he  said  no." 

Jeffard  hung  his  head  and  woidd  have  tried  to 
break  away ;  but  Bartrow  locked  arms  with  him  and 
di'agged  him  whither  he  would. 

"  I  '11  forgive  you  this  time,"  he  went  on,  laugh- 
ing at  Jeffard's  discomfiture.  "  I  suppose  you  had 
your  reasons  for  dodging,  and  while  it 's  ten  to  one 
they  were  no  good,  that  leaves  one  chance  in  your 
favor.     Have  a  smoke  ?  " 

Now  Jeffard's  poverty-pride  was  fire-new  as  yet, 
and  though  the  smell  of  Bartrow's  cigar  made  him 
faint  with  desire,  he  refused  the  gift. 

"  Have  n't  quit,  have  you  ?  "  Bartrow  demanded. 

"  No  —  yes ;  that  is,  I  have  for  the  present. 
I  'm  not  feeling  very  well  this  morning." 

"  You  look  it ;  every  inch  of  it.  Let 's  go  around 
and  see  what  the  money  people  are  doing.  Maybe 
that  'U  chirk  you  up  a  bit." 


THE   HELPERS  19 

Jeffartl  yiekled,  partly  because  Bartrow's  impetus 
was  always  of  the  irresistible  sort,  and  partly  be- 
cause he  could  think  of  no  plausible  objection  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment.  Bartrow  talked  cheerily  all  the 
way  aroimd  to  the  Mining  Exchange,  telling  of  his 
claims  and  prospects  in  Chaffee  County,  and  warm- 
mg  to  his  subject  as  only  a  seasoned  Coloradoan  can 
when  the  talk  is  of  "  mineral"  and  mining.  Jeffard, 
being  hmigry,  and  sick  with  a  fierce  longiug  for 
tobacco,  said  little,  and  was  dvdy  thankfvd  that  Bar- 
trow required  no  more  than  a  word  now  and  then 
to  keep  him  going.  None  the  less  he  watched  nar- 
rowly for  a  chance  to  escape,  and  was  visibly  de- 
pressed when  none  offered. 

In  the  crowded  Exchange  the  poverty-pride  began 
to  lose  the  fine  keenness  of  its  edge.  The  atmo- 
sphere of  the  room  was  pungent  with  cigar  smoke, 
and  the  tobacco  craving  rose  up  m  its  might  and 
smote  down  Jeffard's  seK-respect. 

"  If  you  '11  excuse  me  a  minute,  Dick,  I  believe  I  '11 
go  out  and  get  a  cigar  as  a  measure  of  self-defense," 
he  said  ;  and  Bartrow  supplied  his  need,  as  a  matter 
of  course.  It  was  a  shameful  subterfuge,  and  he 
loathed  hunself  for  having  descended  to  it.  Never- 
theless, he  took  the  cigar  which  Bartrow  made  haste 
to  offer,  and  lighted  it.  The  first  few  whiffs  made 
him  dizzy,  but  afterward  he  was  better  company  for 
the  enthusiast. 

WhUe  they  were  talking,  the  elderly  man  with 
the  bit  of  quartz  on  his  watch-chain  came  in,  and 
Jeffard  inquired  if  Barti'ow  knew  him. 


20  THE   HELPERS 

"  Know  Steve  Elliott  ?  I  should  say  I  do. 
Everybody  knows  him,  Laning  now  and  then  a  ten- 
derfoot like  yonrseK.  Besides  being  one  of  the 
most  lovable  old  infants  on  top  of  earth,  he 's  one  of 
Denver's  picturesques.  That  old  man  has  had  more 
ups  and  downs  than  any  three  men  in  Colorado  ;  and 
that 's  saying  a  good  deal." 

"  In  what  way  ?  " 

"  Oh,  every  way.  lie  's  a  Fifty-niner,  to  begin 
with ;  came  across  the  plains  in  a  bull-train  to  himt 
for  mineral.  He  foimd  it  —  Steve  would  find  it  if 
anybody  could  —  but  some  sharp  rascal  euchred 
him  out  of  it,  and  he  's  been  finding  it  and  losing  it 
at  regular  intervals  ever  since." 

Jeffard  blew  a  cloud  of  smoke  toward  the  ceiling, 
and  took  in  the  outward  presentment  of  the  pioneer 
in  an  appraisive  eye-sweep.  "  Tliis  is  one  of  the 
finding  intervals,  I  take  it." 

"  Sure.  He  's  on  top  just  now,  —  rather  more 
so  than  usual,  I  believe,  —  but  the  '  pioneer's  luck  ' 
will  catch  him  again  some  day,  and  just  as  likely  as 
not  he  '11  be  hustling  around  for  a  grub-stake." 

"  Man  of  family  ?  "  queried  Jeffard. 

"  Yes,  if  a  daughter  's  a  family.  His  wife  died 
in  one  of  the  lean  years  a  long  time  ago.  But  say, 
Jeffard,  you  ought  to  luiow  the  daughter.  She  's  as 
pretty  as  a  peach,  and  as  bright  as  a  new  nickel. 
She's  had  her  share  of  the  ups  and  downs,  and 
they  've  made  a  queer  little  medley  of  her.  Trap 
and  tandem  and  a  big  house  on  Capitol  Hill  one 
month,  and  as  like  as  not  two  rooms  in  a  block  and 


THE   HELPERS  21 

a  ride  in  the  street-cars  the  next.  That 's  about 
the  way  Connie  Elliott 's  had  it  all  her  life,  and  it 's 
made  her  as  wide  awake  as  a  frosty  morning,  and 
as  good  as  a  Sister  of  Charity." 

"  I  can  believe  all  that,"  Jeffard  admitted,  mean- 
ing more  than  he  said. 

"  Yes,  you  're  safe  in  believing  all  the  good  things 
you  hear  about  Steve  Elliott  and  his  daughter. 
They  're  good  people.  By  the  way,  why  can't  you 
come  up  to  the  house  with  me  some  evening  and 
get  acquainted  ?  They  've  a  Philadelphia  cousin 
staying  with  them  now,  and  you  might  compare 
notes  on  the  '  wild  and  woolly  '  with  her." 

Jeffard  had  a  string  of  excuses  ready,  ending 
with,  "  Besides,  there  are  particular  reasons  why  I 
don't  wish  to  meet  Miss  Elliott  just  now  —  reasons 
that  I  can't  explain." 

"  Reasons  be  hanged !  Just  you  stand  still  a 
minute  while  I  go  get  the  old  man  and  introduce 
you.     You  '11  like  him  a  whole  lot." 

Bartrow  did  his  part,  but  by  the  time  he  had 
pulled  Elliott  out  of  the  throng  in  front  of  the 
quotation  board,  Jeffard  was  two  squares  away, 
headed  once  more  for  the  suburbs.  This  time  he 
crossed  the  river  and  tramped  for  hours  in  the 
Higlilands.  He  told  himself  he  was  killing  time 
and  keeping  out  of  the  way  of  the  luncheon  hour ;  but 
in  reality  he  was  fighting  a  desperate  battle  with 
pride,  or  self-respect,  or  whatever  it  is  that  makes 
a  man  who  is  not  a  born  vagrant  shrink  from  that 
species  of  cannibalism  which  begins  with  the  eating 
of  one's  personal  possessions. 


22  THE   HELPERS 

It  was  an  unequal  fight  at  best,  since  hunger  was 
the  besieger,  but  Jeffarcl  made  shift  to  prolong  it 
until  the  long  day  of  fasting  was  drawing  to  its 
close.  He  yielded  at  last,  as  needs  must  when  fam- 
ine drives,  but  the  capitulation  was  upon  conditions, 
and  his  heart  was  soft  with  repentant  kneadings. 
Since  one  must  eat  to  live,  the  pride-quenching  thing 
must  come  to  pass ;  but  the  doing  of  it  should  be 
the  pivot  upon  which  he  would  turn  back  to  sanity 
and  industrious  thrift.  Tlie  loss  of  his  small  patri- 
mony and  the  hard-earned  savings  by  which  it  had 
been  fairly  doubled  was  shrewd  upon  him,  but  he 
told  himself  that  the  consequences  of  his  folly  must 
be  set  over  against  the  experience ;  that  he  must  be 
content  to  begin  again  at  the  bottom,  as  his  father 
had  before  him,  thankful  for  the  youth  and  strength 
which  made  such  a  beginning  possible. 

From  the  preliminary  survey  of  penitence  to 
plotting  out  the  map  of  good  intentions  is  an  easy 
stage,  and  Jeffard  beguiled  the  long  tramp  townward 
by  building  air-castles  spacious  and  many-storied, 
with  the  new  resolutions  for  their  foundations.  But 
when  the  sidewalks  of  the  streets  were  once  more 
under  his  feet,  the  pride-quenching  necessity  urged 
itself  afresh,  plying  the  lash  of  shame  until  he  was 
driven  to  tramp  yet  other  squares  before  he  could 
attain  to  the  plunging  point. 

He  was  passing  the  Albany  when  the  climax  was 
reached,  and  he  turned  aside  to  get  a  light  for  the 
carefully  econonaized  stump  of  Bartrow's  cigar  before 
setting  out  to  find  a  pawnshop  where  his  pride  might 


THE   HELPERS  23 

suffer  least.  At  the  cigar  counter  in  the  rotunda  a 
giant  in  rough  tweeds,  with  an  unshorn  beard  and 
the  fine  bronze  of  the  grazing  plains  on  face  and 
hands,  was  filling  his  case  with  high-priced  Cubans 
from  an  open  box.  At  sight  of  Jeffard  he  dropped 
the  cigar-case  and  roared  out  a  mighty  welcome. 

"  Well,  I  '11  be  !     Jeffard,  my  boy,  where 

under  the  canopy  did  you  drop  from  ?  If  I  have  n't 
had  a  search-warrant  out  for  you  aU  day,  I  'm  a  liar 
and  the  truth  has  shook  me.  Been  to  dinner?  — 
but  of  course  you  have  n't ;  or  if  you  have,  you  are 
going  to  eat  another  with  me  right  now.  How  've 
you  been?  and  where  in  Tophet  have  you  been 
hiding  out  ?  " 

Jeffard  smiled.  "  That 's  the  place  —  in  Tophet 
and  elsewhere ;  but  I  have  n't  been  out  of  town 
since  you  were  here  last." 

"  The  devil  you  have  n't !  Then  what  did  that 
midey  maverick  at  the  hotel  mean  when  he  said  you 
were  gone  ?  " 

"  Gone  from  the  hotel,  I  guess  he  meant.  I  've 
been  '  eating  around,'  as  we  used  to  say  back  in  the 
Berkshire  Hills." 

"  Have,  eh  ?  Well,  you  're  going  to  '  eat  around ' 
with  me  to-night,  savez  ?  I  was  just  going  to  swear 
a  few  lines  and  go  up  and  eat  by  myself.  Come  on  ; 
let 's  get  a  move.  I  've  got  a  train-load  of  steers  on 
the  non,  and  I  'm  due  to  chase  'em  at  eight-thirty. 
But  before  I  forget  it,  here  "  —  the  big  man  fotmd 
a  compact  little  wad  of  bank-notes  in  his  vest  pocket 
and  thrust  it  into  Jeffard's  hand.      "  I  counted  that 


24  THE  HELPERS 

out  the  next  morning  and  meant  to  give  it  back  to 
you,  but  the  thing  got  away  from  me  slick  and 
clean." 

"  Give  it  back  to  me  ?  "  queried  Jeffard,  with  a 
sudden  sweUing  of  the  throat  that  made  his  voice 
husky  and  tremulous,  "  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  it 's  the  hundred  I  borrowed  of  you  the 
last  time  we  took  in  the  menagerie  together.  What 's 
the  matter  with  you  ?  Don't  tell  me  you  don't 
remember  it,  or  I  shall  go  kick  myself  around  the 
block  for  an  over-honest  idiot !  " 

Jeif ard  did  not  remember  it ;  could  but  dimly 
recall  the  circumstances  now  that  he  was  reminded 
of  theln.  The  lending  had  been  in  a  moment  of 
supreme  excitement  in  the  midst  of  a  feverish  attack 
of  the  dementia ;  the  loan  was  in  celluloid  counters, 
in  fact,  and  not  in  legal  tender  at  all.  And  having 
been  made,  it  was  swiftly  lost  sight  of  in  the  vary- 
ing fortunes  of  the  sitting.  None  the  less,  the 
return  of  it  at  the  precise  moment  when  it  was  most 
needed  drove  the  thankfulness  to  his  eyes,  and  the 
lights  of  the  great  rotunda  swam  in  a  misty  haze 
when  he  thouoht  of  the  humiliating  thmg  from 
which  the  small  Providence  had  saved  liim. 

"  Pettigrew,"  he  said,  when  he  could  trust  himself 
to  speak,  "  you  're  an  honest  man,  and  that 's  the 
worst  that  can  be  said  of  you.  I  had  forgotten  it 
long  ago.  Take  me  in  and  fill  me  up.  I  've  been 
tramping  aU  day,  and  it  runs  in  my  mind  that  I  've 
skipped  a  meal  or  two." 


CHAPTER  IV 

The  dancing  party  at  the  Calmaines'  was  a  crush, 
as  Mrs.  Cahuaiue's  social  enlargements  were  wont 
to  be.  For  an  hour  or  more  the  avenue  had  been 
a-rumble  with  carriages  coming  and  going,  and  a 
trickling  stream  of  bidden  ones  flowed  steadily  in- 
ward under  the  electric-lighted  awning,  which  ex- 
tended the  welcome  of  the  hospitable  house  to  the 
very  curb. 

Thanks  to  Myra  Van  Vetter,  whose  tiring  was 
always  of  the  most  leisurely,  the  EUiotts  were  fashion- 
ably late ;  and  the  elderly  man,  with  the  hesitant 
air  accentuated  by  the  unwonted  dress-coat,  had 
much  ado  to  win  through  the  throng  in  the  drawing- 
rooms  with  his  charges.  His  gi'eeting  to  the  hostess 
was  sincere  rather  than  weU-turned  in  its  phrasing ; 
but  Mrs.  Calmaine  was  sweetly  gracious. 

"  So  glad  to  see  you,  Stephen,"  she  protested  ; 
"the  old  friends  can  never  be  spared,  you  know." 
She  shook  hands  with  unaffected  cordiality,  and  her 
tactful  use  of  the  elderly  man's  Chi-istian  name 
went  far  toward  effacing  the  afflictive  dress-coat. 
"  Miss  Van  Vetter,  you  are  quite  radiant  to-night. 
You  spoil  all  one's  ideals  of  Quaker  demureness." 

"  Oh,  Myra  's  demure  enough,  only  you  have  to 
be  her  country  cousin  to  find  it  out,"  put  in  Connie 


26  THE  HELPERS 

maliciously ;  and  when  her  father  and  Miss  Van 
Vetter  had  made  room  for  later  comers,  she  waited 
for  another  word  with  the  hostess. 

"  Just  a  hint,  before  I  'm  submerged,"  she  began, 
when  her  opportunity  came.  "  I  'm  unattached,  and 
particularly  good-natured  and  docile  to-night.  Make 
use  of  me  just  as  you  would  of  Delia  or  Bessie. 
You  've  everybody  here,  as  usual,  and  if  I  can  help 
you  amuse  people  "  — 

"  Thank  you,  Connie,  dear  ;  that  is  very  sweet  of 
you.  There  are  people  here  to-night  who  seem. not 
to  belong  to  any  one.  Here  comes  one  of  them 
now.'* 

Constance  looked  and  saw  a  yoimg  man  making 
Lis  way  toward  them  ;  a  soldierly  figure,  with  square 
shoulders  and  the  easy  bearing  of  one  who  has  lived 
much  in  the  open ;  but  with  a  face  which  was  rather 
thoughtful  than  strong,  though  its  lines  were  well 
masked  under  a  close-trimmed  beard  and  virile 
mustaches.  She  recognized  her  unintroduced  ac- 
quaintance of  the  theatre ;  and  a  minute  or  two 
afterward,  when  Mrs.  Calmaine  w^ould  have  pre- 
sented the  new-comer.  Miss  Elliott  had  disappeared. 

"  Let 's  sit  down  here,  Teddy ;  this  is  as  good  a 
place  as  any.  You  poor  boy  !  it  bores  you  dreadfully, 
does  n't  it  ?  How  trying  it  must  be  to  be  hlase  at  — 
shall  I  say  twenty?  or  is  it  twenty-one?" 

The  dancing  was  two  hours  old,  and  Connie  and 
the  smooth-faced  boy  who  stood  for  the  hopes  of  the 
house  of  Cahnaine  were  sitting  out  the  intermission 
on  a  broad  step  of  the  main  stair. 


THE  HELPERS  27 

"  Oh,  I  'm  young,  but  I  '11  outgi-ow  that,"  rejoined 
the  youth  tolerantly.  "All  the  same,  you  needn't 
bully  me  because  you  've  a  month  or  two  the  advan- 
tage. Shall  I  go  and  get  you  something  to  eat,  or 
drink  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you,  Teddy  ;  I  'm  neither  hungry  nor 
thirsty.  But  you  might  give  me  th»  recipe  for  being 
good-natured  when  people  make  game  of  you." 

"  Yes  ;  I  think  I  see  myself  giving  you  points  on 
that,"  said  the  boy,  with  frank  admiration  in  his  eyes. 
*'  I  'm  not  running  an  angel-school  just  at  present." 

Connie's  blush  was  reproacliful.  "  You  ridiculous 
boy !  "  she  retorted.  "  You  '11  be  making  love  to  me 
next,  just  the  same  as  if  we  had  n't  known  each  other 
all  our  lives.  Do  you  talk  that  way  to  other  girls? 
or  are  you  only  practicing  on  me  so  that  you  can  ?  " 

Teddy  Calmaine  shook  his  head.  "  There  is  n't 
anybody  else,"  he  asserted,  with  mock  earnestness. 
"  My  celestial  acquaintance  is  too  hmited.  When 
the  goddess  goes,  there  are  no  half-goddesses  to  take 
her  place." 

Connie  sniffed  sympathetically,  and  then  laughed 
at  him.  "  You  ought  to  have  seen  me  yesterday, 
when  poppa  brought  old  Jack  Hawley  home  with 
him.  Poppa  and  Jack  were  partners  m  the  '  Vesta,' 
and  Mr.  Hawley  had  n't  seen  me  since  I  was  in  pina- 
fores. He  called  me  '  little  girl,'  and  wanted  to 
know  if  I  went  to  school,  and  how  I  was  getting 
along ! " 

Young  Calmaine  made  a  diunb  show  of  applause. 
"  O  umhrm  Pygmoeorum  !     Why  was  n't  I  there  to 


28  THE   HELPERS 

see !  But  you  must  n't  be  too  hard  on  old  Jack. 
Half  the  people  here  who  don't  know  you  think 
you 're  an  escaped  schoolgirl ;  I 've  heard 'em.  That's 
why  I  took  })ity  on  you  and  "  — 

"  Teddy  Calmaine,  go  away  and  find  me  some- 
body to  talk  to  ;  a  grown  man,  if  you  please.  You 
make  me  tired." 

The  boy  got  np  with  a  quizzical  grin  on  his 
smooth  face.  "  I  '11  do  it,"  he  assented  affably ; 
"  I  'm  no  end  good-natured,  as  you  remarked  a  few 
minutes  ago." 

When  he  was  gone  Connie  forgot  liira,  and  fell 
into  a  muse,  with  the  sights  and  sounds  of  the  crush 
for  its  motive.  From  her  perch  on  the  stair  she 
could  look  down  on  the  shifting  scene  in  the  wide 
entrance  hall,  and  tlirough  the  archway  beyond  she 
had  a  glimpse  of  the  circling  figures  in  the  ball-room 
swaying  rhythmically  to  the  music.  It  was  all  very 
delightful  and  joyous,  and  she  enjoyed  it  with  a  zest 
which  was  yet  undidled  by  satiety.  None  the  less,  the 
lavishness  of  it  oppressed  her,  and  a  vague  protest, 
born  of  other  sights  and  scenes  sharply  contrasted 
but  no  less  familiar  to  the  daughter  of  Stejihen 
Elliott,  began  to  shape  itself  in  her  heart.  How 
much  suffering  a  bare  tithe  of  the  wealth  blazing 
here  in  jewels  on  fair  hands  and  arms  and  necks 
would  alle^^ate.  And  how  many  hungry  mouths 
might  be  filled  from  the  groaning  tables  in  the 
supper-room. 

Miss  Elliott  came  out  of  her  reverie  reluctantly 
at  the  bidding  of  her  late  companion.     Teddy  Cal- 


THE   HELPERS  29 

maine  had  obeyed  her  literally  ;  and  when  she  turned 
he  was  presenting  the  soldierly  young  man  with  the 
pointed  beard  and  curling  mustaches. 

"  Miss  Elliott,  this  is  Mr.  Jeffard.  You  said  you 
wanted  a  "  — 

"  An  ice,  Teddy,"  she  cut  in,  with  a  look  which 
was  meant  to  be  obliterative.  "  But  you  need  n't 
mind  it  now.  Will  you  have  half  a  stair-step,  Mr. 
Jeffard?" 

She  made  room  for  him,  but  he  was  mindful  of 
his  obligations. 

"  Not  if  you  will  give  me  this  waltz." 

She  glanced  at  her  card  and  looked  up  at  him 
with  a  smile  which  was  half  pleading  and  half  quiz- 
zical.    "  Must  I  ?  " 

He  laughed  and  sat  down  beside  her.  "  There  is 
no  '  must '  about  it.    I  was  hoping  you  would  refuse." 

"  Oh,  thank  you." 

"  For  your  sake  rather  than  my  own,"  he  hastened 
to  add.     "  I  am  a  wretched  dancer." 

"  What  a  damaging  admission  !  " 

"  Is  it  ?  Do  you  know,  I  had  hoped  you  woidd  n't 
take  that  view  of  it." 

"  I  don't,"  she  admitted,  quite  frankly.  "  We 
take  it  seriously,  as  we  do  most  of  our  amusements, 
but  it 's  a  relic  of  barbarism.  Once,  when  I  was  a 
very  httle  girl,  my  father  took  me  to  see  a  Ute  scalp- 
dance,  —  without  the  scalps,  of  course,  —  and  — 
well,  first  impressions  are  apt  to  be  lasting.  I  never 
see  a  ball-room  in  action  without  tliinking  of  Fire-in- 
the-Snow  and  his  capering  braves." 


30  THE  HELPERS 

Jeffard  smiled  at  the  conceit,  but  he  spoke  to  the 
truism. 

"  I  hojDC  your  fii-st  impressions  of  me  won't  be 
lasting,"  he  ventured.  "  I  think  I  was  more  than 
usually  churlish  last  night." 

She  glanced  up  quickly.  "  There  should  be  no 
'  last  night '  for  us,"  she  averred. 

"  Forgive  me  ;  you  are  quite  right.  But  no  mat- 
ter what  happens  there  always  will  be." 

Her  gaze  lost  itself  among  the  circling  figures  be- 
yond the  archway,  and  the  truth  of  the  assertion 
di'ove  itself  home  with  a  twinge  of  something  like 
regret.  But  when  she  turned  to  him  again  there 
was  unashamed  frankness  in  the  clear  gray  eyes. 

"  What  poor  minions  the  conventions  have  made 
us,"  she  said.  "  Let  us  be  primitive  and  admit  that 
our  acquaintance  began  last  night.  Does  that  help 
you?" 

"  It  will  help  me  very  much,  if  you  wiU  let  me 
try  to  efface  the  first  unpression." 

"  Does  it  need  effacing  ?  " 

"  I  tliink  it  must.  I  was  moody  and  half  despe- 
rate." 

He  stopped,  and  she  knew  that  he  was  waiting 
for  some  sign  of  encouragement.  She  looked  away 
again,  meanmg  not  to  give  it.  It  is  one  of  the  little 
martyrdoms  of  sympathetic  souls  to  invite  confi- 
dences and  thereby  to  suffer  vicariously  for  the 
misdoings  of  the  erring  majority,  and  her  burdens 
in  this  wise  were  many  and  heavy.  Why  should 
she  go  out  of  her  way  to  add  to  them  those  of  this 


THE   HELPERS  31 

man  who  ought  to  be  abundantly  able  to  carry  his 
own  ?  Thus  the  unspoken  question,  and  the  answer 
came  close  upon  the  heels  of  it.  But  for  her  own 
curiosity,  —  impertinence,  she  had  begun  to  call  it, 
—  the  occasion  would  never  have  arisen. 

"  I  am  listening,"  she  said,  giving  him  his  sign. 

Being  permitted  to  speak  freely,  Jeffard  found 
himself  suddenly  tongue-tied.  "  I  don't  know  what 
I  ought  to  say,  —  if,  indeed,  I  ought  to  say  anything 
at  all,"  he  began.  "  I  think  I  gave  you  to  un- 
derstand that  the  world  had  been  using  me  rather 
hardly." 

"And  if  you  did?" 

A  palpitant  couple,  free  of  the  waltz,  came  up 
the  stair,  and  Jeffard  rose  to  make  way.  When 
the  breatliless  ones  perched  themselves  on  the  land- 
ing above,  he  went  on,  standing  on  the  step  below 
her  and  leaning  against  the  baluster. 

"  If  I  did,  it  was  an  implied  untruth.  It 's  a 
trite  saying  that  the  world  is  what  we  make  it,  and 
I  am  quite  sure  now  that  I  have  been  making  my 
part  of  it  since  I  came  to  Denver.  I  'm  not  going 
to  afflict  you  with  the  formida,  but  I  shall  feel  bet- 
ter for  having  told  you  that  I  have  torn  it  up  and 
thrown  it  away." 

"  And  you  will  write  out  another  ?  " 

"  Beginning  with  to-morrow.  I  leave  Denver  in 
the  morning." 

"  You  are  not  going  back?  "  She  said  it  with  a 
little  tang  of  deprecation  in  the  words. 

His  heart  warmed  to  the  small  flash  of  friendly 


32  THf:   HELPERS 

interest,  and  he  smiled  and  shook  his  head.  "No, 
that  would  never  do  —  without  the  fortune,  you 
know.  I  'm  going  to  the  mountains ;  \vith  pick 
and  shovel,  if  need  be.  I  shoidd  have  started  to- 
nig-ht  if  I  had  n't  found  Mrs.  Cahnaine's  invitation. 
She  has  been  very  good  to  me  in  a  social  way,  and 
I  coidd  do  no  less  than  come."  He  said  it  aj3olo- 
getically,  as  if  the  dip  into  the  social  pool  on  the  eve 
of  the  new  setting  forth  demanded  an  explanation. 

She  smiled  up  at  him.  "  Does  it  need  an  apo- 
logy ?     Are  you  sorry  you  came  ?  " 

"  Sorry  ?  It 's  the  one  wise  thing  I  've  done 
these  four  months.  I  shall  always  be  glad  —  and 
thankfid."  It  was  on  his  tongue  to  say  more ;  to 
dig  the  pit  of  confession  still  deeper,  as  one  who, 
finding  himself  at  the  shrine  of  compassionate 
purity,  would  be  assoilzied  for  all  the  wrong-doings 
and  follies  and  stumblings  of  a  misguided  past ; 
to  say  many  things  for  which  he  had  no  shadow  of 
warrant,  and  to  which  the  self-contained  young 
woman  on  the  step  before  him  could  make  no  possi- 
ble rejoinder ;  but  the  upcoming  of  the  man  whose 
name  stood  next  on  Connie's  card  saved  him.  A 
moment  later  he  was  taking  his  leave. 

"  Not  going  to  break  away  now,  are  you,  Jef- 
fard?"  said  the  fortunate  one,  helping  Connie  to 
rise. 

"  Yes  ;  I  must  cut  it  short.  I  leave  town  in  the 
morning.  Miss  Elliott,  will  you  bid  me  God- 
speed? " 

She  put  her  hand  in  his  and  said  what  was  meet ; 


THE   HELPERS  33 

and  to  the  man  who  stood  beside  her  the  parting 
appeared  to  be  neither  more  nor  less  than  conven- 
tionally formal.  But  when  Jeffard  was  free  of  the 
house  and  swinging  along  on  his  way  cityward,  the 
spirit  of  it  made  itself  a  name  to  live  ;  and  out  of 
the  God-speed  and  the  kindly  phrase  of  leavetaking 
the  new-blown  fire  of  good  intention  distilled  a 
subtle  liqueur  of  jubilance  which  sang  in  his  veins 
like  the  true  wine  of  rejuvenescence  ;  so  nearly  may 
the  alchemy  of  pure  womanhood  transmute  sound- 
ing brass,  or  still  baser  metal,  into  the  semblance  of 
virgin  gold. 

So  Jeifard  went  his  way  reflective,  and  while  he 
mused  the  fire  burned  and  he  saw  himself  in  his 
recent  stumblings  in  the  valley  of  dry  bones  as  a 
thing  apart.  From  the  saner  point  of  view  it 
seemed  incredible  that  he  could  ever  have  been  the 
thrall  of  such  an  ignoble  passion  as  that  which  had 
so  lately  despoiled  him  and  sent  him  to  tramp  the 
streets  like  a  hungiy  vagrant.  As  yet  the  lesson 
was  but  a  few  hom-s  old,  but  the  barrier  it  had 
thrown  up  between  the  insensate  yesterday  and  the 
rational  to-day  seemed  safely  impassable.  In  the 
strength  of  reinstated  reason,  confidence  returned ; 
and  close  upon  the  heels  of  confidence,  temerity. 
His  reverie  had  led  him  past  the  corner  where  he 
should  have  turned  westward,  and  when  he  took 
cognizance  of  his  surroundings  he  was  standing 
opposite  the  alley-way  of  the  glass-eyed  doors.  He 
glanced  at  his  watch.  It  was  midnight.  Twenty- 
four  hours   before,  almost    to    the  minute,  he    had 


34  THE  HELPERS 

been  dragged  irresistibly  across  the  street  and  up 
the  carpeted  stair  to  the  hiir  of  the  dementia-demon. 

He  looked  up  at  the  carefidly  shaded  windows, 
and  a  sudden  desire  to  prove  himself  came  upon 
him.  Not  onee  since  the  first  hot  flashes  of  the 
fever  had  begun  to  quicken  his  pidse,  had  he  been 
able  to  go  and  look  on  and  return  scathless.  But 
was  he  not  sane  now?  and  was  not  the  barrier  well 
builded?  If  it  were  not  —  if  it  stood  only  upon  the 
lack  of  opportunity  — 

He  crossed  the  street  and  threaded  the  narrow 
alley,  tramping  steadily  as  one  who  goes  into  battle, 
—  a  battle  which  may  be  postponed,  but  which  may 
by  no  means  be  evaded.  The  swing  doors  gave 
back  under  his  hand,  and  a  minute  later  he  stood 
beside  the  table  with  the  inlaid  cards  in  its  centre, 
his  hands  tlu"ust  deep  in  his  pockets,  and  his  breath 
coming  in  sharp  little  gasps. 

It  was  a  perilous  moment  for  any  son  of  Adam 
who  has  been  once  bitten  by  the  dog  of  avarice 
gone  mad.  The  run  of  luck  was  against  the  bank, 
and  the  piles  of  counters  under  the  hands  of  the 
haggard  ones  girdling  the  table  grew  and  multi- 
plied with  every  turn  of  the  cards.  Jeffard's  lips 
began  to  twitch,  and  the  pupils  of  his  eyes  narrowed 
to  two  scintillant  points.  Slowly,  and  by  almost 
imperceptible  advances,  his  right  hand  crept  from 
its  covert,  the  fingers  tightly  clenched  upon  the 
smaU  roll  of  bank-notes,  —  the  Providential  wind- 
fall which  must  provision  any  future  argosy  of 
endeavor. 


THE  HELPERS  35 

The  dealer  ran  the  cards  with  monotonous  pre- 
cision, his  hands  moving  like  the  pieces  of  a  nicely 
adjusted  mechanism.  JefPard's  fingers  unclosed  and 
he  stood  staring  down  at  the  money  in  his  pahn  as 
i£  the  sight  of  it  fascinated  him.  Then  he  turned 
quickly  and  tossed  it  across  to  the  banker.  "  Reds 
and  whites,"  he  said ;  and  the  sound  of  his  own 
voice  jarred  upon  his  nerves  like  the  rasping  of  files 
in  a  saw-pit. 

Two  hours  later,  he  was  again  standing  on  the 
narrow  footway  in  the  alley,  with  the  swuig  doors 
winging  to  rest  behind  him.  Two  hours  of  frenzied 
excitement  in  the  dubious  battle  with  chance,  and 
the  day  of  penitence  and  its  hopeful  promise  for 
the  future  were  as  if  they  had  not  been.  Halfway 
across  the  street  he  turned  and  flung  his  clenched 
fist  up  at  the  shaded  windows,  but  his  tongue  clave 
to  his  teeth  and  the  curse  turned  to  a  groan  with  a 
sob  at  the  end  of  it.  And  as  he  went  his  way,  sod- 
den with  weariness,  the  words  of  a  long-forgotten 
allegory  were  ringing  knell-Kke  in  his  ears  :  — 

"  When  the  unclean  spirit  is  gone  out  of  a  man, 
he  walketh  in  dry  places  seekmg  rest,  and  findeth 
none.  Then  he  saith,  I  will  return  into  my  house 
from  whence  I  came  out:  and  when  he  is  come,  he 
findeth  it  empty  and  swept  and  garnished.  Then 
goeth  he  and  taketh  with  him  seven  other  spirits 
more  wicked  than  himself,  and  they  enter  in  and 
dwell  there;  and  the  last  state  of  that  man  is  worse 
than  the  first." 


CHAPTER   V 

It  was  on  the  day  following  the  dancing  party  at 
the  Calmaines'  that  Constance  Elliott  arrayed  herself 
in  a  modest  street  dress,  and  ran  down  to  the  hbrary 
where  Miss  Van  Vetter  was  writmg  letters. 

"You'd  better  change  your  mind,  Myra,  and 
come  along  with  me.  It  'U  do  you  good  to  see  how 
the  other  half  lives,"  she  said  coaxingly. 

Miss  Van  Vetter  cahnly  finished  her  sentence  be- 
fore she  replied. 

"  Thank  you,  Connie  ;  but  I  believe  not.  I  know 
it  is  the  proper  fad  nowadays  to  go  slunnning,  but  I 
can't  do  it ;  it 's  a  matter  of  principle  with  me." 

Connie's  eyebrows  arched  in  mild  surprise. 
"  That 's  a  new  one,"  she  commented.  "  I  've  heard 
all  kinds  of  excuses,  but  never  that.  How  do  you 
diagi-am  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  simple  enough.  One  sees  plenty  of  misery 
in  the  ordinary  course  of  things  without  making  a 
specialty  of  looldng  for  it ;  and  when  you  've  done 
everything  that  your  money  and  sympathy  can  do, 
it  is  only  a  single  drop  in  the  gi-eat  ocean  of  human 
wretchedness,  after  all.  More  than  that,  you  have 
added  to  the  sum  total  of  the  world's  suffering  by 
just  so  much  as  the  miseries  of  the  others  hurt  you 
through  your  compassion." 


THE   HELPERS  37 

"  Myra,  dear,  if  I  did  n't  know  that  you  are  bet- 
ter than  your  theories,  I  should  try  to  humble  you. 
What  will  you  do  if  the  evil  day  ever  conies  to 
you?" 

"  Unload  my  woes  upon  some  such  angelic  and 
charitable  sister  of  mercy  as  you  are,  I  suppose," 
rejoined  Miss  Van  Vetter  complacently.  "  But  that 
doesn't  make  it  necessary  for  me  to  go  about  and 
shed  literal  tears  with  those  who  weep,  now.  I  pre- 
fer to  do  it  by  proxy."  She  took  a  gold  piece  from 
her  purse  and  offered  it  to  Constance.  "  Take  this, 
and  make  some  poor  wretch  comfortable  for  ten  or 
fifteen  minutes  on  my  account." 

Miss  Elliott  was  not  yet  canonized,  and  she  re- 
fused the  contribution  with  an  indignant  little  stamp 
of  her  foot.  "  Myra  Van  Vetter,  you  're  worse  than 
a  heathen  !  I  would  n't  touch  your  money  with  the 
tip  of  my  finger ;  I  'd  be  afraid  it  would  burn  me. 
I  hope  you  'U  learn  for  yourseK  some  day  what  the 
cold  shoulder  of  charity  is  —  there !  "  And  she 
swept  out  of  the  room  with  as  much  dignity  as  five- 
feet-one-and-a-half  may  compass  upon  extraordinary 
occasions. 

Once  on  the  other  side  of  the  library  door,  she 
laughed  softly  to  herseK  and  was  instantly  Connie 
the  serene  again. 

"  It  does  me  a  whole  lot  of  good  to  boil  over  once  in 
a  while,"  she  said,  going  out  on  the  veranda.  "  Myra 
serves  one  beneficent  end  in  the  cosmogony  in  spite 
of  herself :  she 's  a  perfect  safety-valve  for  me. 
Tommie-e-e-e  !     O  Tom  !     Are  you  out  there  ?  " 


38  THE  HELPERS 

A  ragged  boy,  sitting  on  the  curb  and  shaking 
dice  A\dth  a  pair  of  pebbles,  sprang  up  and  ran  to 
the  gate.  When  the  latch  baffled  him,  as  it  usually 
did  from  the  outside,  he  vaidted  the  fence  and  stood 
before  her. 

"  Prompt  as  usual,  are  n't  you,  Tommie  ?  " 

"  Ain't  got  nothin'  else  to  do  but  to  be  promp'. 
Is  it  a  baskit,  dis  time,  'r  wot?  " 

"  It 's  a  basket,  and  you  '11  find  it  in  the  kitchen." 

Five  minutes  later  the  dwellers  in  the  avenue 
might  have  seen  a  small  procession  headed  town- 
wards.  Its  component  parts  were  a  dainty  little 
lady,  walking  very  straight  with  her  hands  in  the 
pockets  of  her  jacket,  and  a  ragged  urchin  bent  side- 
wise  against  the  weight  of  a  capacious  basket. 

The  street-car  line  was  convenient,  but  Constance 
walked  in  deference  to  Tommie's  convictions, — 
he  objected  to  the  car  on  the  score  of  economy. 
"  Wot 's  the  use  o'  givin'  a  bloated  corp'ration  a 
nickel  w'en  a  feller  can  mog  along  on  his  feets  ?  " 
he  had  demanded,  one  day ;  and  thereafter  they 
walked. 

What  profits  it  to  set  down  in  measured  phrase  at 
what  numbers  in  what  streets  the  basket  cover  was 
lifted  that  afternoon  ?  Doubtless,  in  that  great  day 
when  the  books  shall  be  opened,  it  will  be  foimd 
that  a  faitliful  record  has  been  kept,  not  only  of  the 
tumbler  of  jeUy  left  with  bedridden  Mother  M'Gar- 
rihan,  the  bottle  of  wine  put  uito  the  hands  of  gaunt 
Tom  Devins,  who  was  slowly  dying  of  lead-poison- 
ing,  and   the  more    substantial  viands    spread  out 


THE  HELPERS  39 

before  the  hungry  children  in  drunken  Owen  David's 
shanty,  but  of  all  the  other  deeds  of  mercy  that  left 
a  trail  of  thankfid  benisons  in  the  wake  of  the  small 
procession.  Be  it  sufficient  to  say  that  the  round 
was  a  long  one,  and  that  Constance  spared  neither 
herself  nor  her  father's  bank-account  where  she 
found  misery  with  uplifted  hands. 

The  basket  had  grown  appreciably  lighter,  and 
Tommie's  body  was  once  more  approaching  the  per- 
pendicular, when  the  procession  paused  before  an 
unswept  stairway  leading  to  the  second  story  of  a 
building  frontmg  on  one  of  the  lower  cross  streets. 
Constance  held  out  her  hand  for  the  basket,  but  the 
boy  put  it  beliind  liim. 

"  Wot 's  the  matter  with  me  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Nothing  at  all,  Tommie.  I  only  meant  to  save 
you  a  climb.  The  basket  is  n't  heavy  now,  you 
know." 

"  S'posin'  it  ain't ;  ain't  I  hired  to  run  this  end 
o'  the  show  ?  You  jes'  tell  me  where  you  want  it 
put,  an'  that 's  right  where  I  'm  goin'  to  put  it,  an* 
not  nowheres  else." 

She  smiled  and  let  him  lead  the  way  up  the  dusty 
stair.  At  a  certain  door  near  the  end  of  the  long 
upper  corridor  she  signed  to  him  to  give  her  the 
basket.  "  Go  to  the  head  of  the  stairs  and  wait," 
she  whispered.     "  I  may  want  you." 

When  he  was  out  of  hearing  she  tapped  on  the 
door  and  went  in.  It  was  the  interior  of  all  others 
that  made  Constance  want  to  cry.  There  was  a 
sufficiency  of   garish   furniture  and  tawdry  knick- 


40  TIIK   HELPERS 

knacks  seatterod  about  to  show  that  it  was  not  the 
dwelling-place  of  the  desperately  poor ;  hut  these 
were  only  the  accessories  to  the  picture  of  desolation 
and  utter  neglect  having  for  its  central  figure  the 
woman  stretched  out  upon  the  bed.  She  was  asleep, 
and  her  face  was  turned  toward  the  light  which 
struggled  feebly  through  the  unwashed  window. 
Beauty  there  had  been,  and  might  be  again,  but  not 
even  the  flush  of  health  would  efface  the  marks  of 
Margaret  Gannon's  latest  plunge  into  the  chilling 
depths  of  human  indifference.  Connie  tiptoed  to 
the  bedside  and  looked,  and  her  heart  swelled  within 
her. 

It  had  fallen  out  in  this  wdse.  On  the  Monday 
night  Mademoiselle  Angeline  —  known  to  her  in- 
timates as  Mag  Gannon  —  saw  fuzzy  little  circles 
expand  and  contract  aroimd  the  gas-jets  in  the 
Bijou  Theatre  while  she  was  walking  through  her 
part  m  the  farce.  Tuesday  night  the  fuzzy  circles 
became  blurs  ;  and  the  stage  manager  swore  audibly 
when  she  faltered  and  missed  the  step  in  her  spe- 
cialty. On  the  Wednesday  Mademoiselle  Angeline 
disappeared  from  the  Bijou  altogether ;  and  for 
three  days  she  had  lain  helpless  and  suffering,  see- 
ing no  human  face  until  Constance  came  and  minis- 
tered to  her.  And  the  pity  of  it  was  that  while  the 
fever  wrought  its  torturous  will  upon  her,  delirium 
would  not  come  to  help  her  to  forget  that  she  was 
forgotten. 

Constance  had  pieced  out  the  pitiful  story  by  frag- 
ments while  she  was  di-agging  the  woman  back  from 


THE   HELPERS  41 

the  brink  of  the  pit ;  and  when  all  was  said,  she 
bejjan  to  understand  that  a  sick  soul  demands  other 
remedies  than  drugs  and  dainties.  Just  what  they 
were,  or  how  they  were  to  be  applied,  was  another 
matter ;  but  Constance  grappled  with  the  problem 
as  ardently  as  if  no  one  had  ever  before  attacked 
it.  In  her  later  visits  she  always  brought  the  con- 
versation around  to  Margaret's  future  ;  and  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  basket-procession,  after  she  had 
made  her  patient  eat  and  drink,  she  essayed  once 
again  to  enlist  the  woman's  will  in  her  own  behalf. 

"  It 's  no  use  of  me  trying.  Miss  Constance ;  I  've 
got  to  go  back  when  I  'm  fit.  There  ain't  nothing 
else  for  the  likes  of  me  to  do." 

"  How  can  you  tell  till  you  try  ?  O  Margaret,  I 
wish  you  would  try !  " 

A  smile  of  hard-earned  wisdom  flitted  across  the 
face  of  the  woman.  "  You  know  more  than  most 
of  'em,"  she  said,  "  but  you  don't  know  it  all.  You 
can't,  you  see  ;  you  're  so  good  the  world  puts  on  its 
gloves  before  it  touches  you.  But  for  the  likes  of 
me,  we  get  the  bare  hand,  and  we  're  playing  in  luck 
if  it  ain't  made  into  a  fist." 

"  You  poor  girl !  It  makes  my  heart  ache  to 
think  what  you  must  have  gone  through  before  you 
could  learn  to  say  a  thing  like  that.  But  you  must 
try  ;  I  can't  let  you  go  back  to  that  awftd  place  after 
what  you  've  told  me  about  it." 

"  Supposing  I  did  try  ;  there  's  only  the  one  thing 
on  earth  I  know  how  to  do,  —  that 's  trim  hats. 
Suppose  you  run  your  pretty  feet  off  till  you  found 


42  THE  HELPERS 

me  a  place  where  I  could  work  right.  How  long 
would  it  be  before  somebody  woidd  go  to  the  missis, 
or  the  boss,  or  whoever  it  might  be,  and  say,  '  See 
here ;  you  've  got  one  of  Pete  Grim's  Bijou  women 
in  there.  That  won't  do.'  And  the  night  after, 
I  'd  be  doing  my  specialty  again,  if  I  was  that  lucky 
to  get  on." 

"  But  you  could  learn  to  do  housework,  or  some- 
thing of  that  kind,  so  you  could  keep  out  of  the  way 
of  people  who  would  remember  you.  You  must 
have  had  some  experience." 

The  invalid  rocked  her  head  on  the  pillow. 
"  That  'd  be  worse  than  the  other,  Somebod}^  'd  be 
dead  sure  to  find  out  and  tell ;  and  then  I  'd  be 
lucky  if  I  got  off  without  going  to  jail.  And  for 
the  experience,  —  a  minute  ago  you  called  me  a  girl, 
but  I  know  you  did  n't  mean  it.  How  old  do  you 
think  I  am?" 

Constance  looked  at  the  fever-burned  face,  and 
tried  to  make  allowances  for  the  ravages  of  disease. 
"  I  should  say  twenty-five,"  she  replied,  "  only  you 
talk  as  if  you  might  be  older." 

"  I  '11  be  eighteen  next  Jmie,  if  I  'd  happen  to  live 
that  long,"  said  IMargaret ;  and  Constance  went 
home  a  few  minutes  later  with  a  new  pain  in  her 
heart,  born  of  the  simple  statement. 

At  the  gate  she  took  the  empty  basket  and  paid 
the  boy.  "  That 's  all  for  to-day,  but  I  want  to  give 
you  some  more  work,"  she  said.  "  Every  morning, 
and  every  noon,  and  every  night,  mitil  I  tell  you  to 
stop,  I  want  you  to  go  up  to  that  last  place  and  ask 


THE   HELPERS  43 

Margaret  Gannon  if  there  is  anything  you  can  do 
for  her.  And  if  she  says  yes,  you  do  it ;  and  if  it 's 
too  big  for  you  to  do,  you  come  right  up  here  after 
me.     Will  you  do  all  that  ?  " 

"  Will  I  ?  Will  a  yaller  dorg  eat  his  supper  w'en 
he 's  hungry  ?  You  're  jes'  dead  right  I  '11  do  it. 
An'  I  '11  be  yere  to-morrer  afternoon,  promp'." 

All  of  which  was  well  enough  in  its  way,  but  the 
problem  was  yet  unsolved,  and  Constance  had  to 
draw  heavily  on  her  reserves  of  cheerfulness  to  be 
able  to  make  an  accordant  one  of  four  when  Richard 
Bartrow  called  that  evening  after  dinner. 


CHAPTER  VI 

During  the  week  following  the  day  of  repentance 
and  backsliding,  Jeffard's  regression  down  the  in- 
clined plane  became  an  accelerated  rush.  In  that 
interval  he  parted  with  his  watch  and  his  surveying 
instruments,  and  made  a  beginning  on  his  surplus 
clothing.  It  was  a  measure  of  the  velocity  of  the 
descent  that  the  watch,  with  the  transit  and  level, 
brought  him  no  more  than  seven  knife-and-fork 
meals  and  an  occasional  luncheon.  But  the  cloth- 
ing, being  transmutable  in  smaller  installments,  did 
rather  better. 

Before  the  week  was  out,  a  bachelor's  apartment 
in  a  respectable  locality  became  an  incongruous 
superfluity ;  and  having  by  no  means  reached  the 
philosophical  level  in  his  descent,  he  hid  himself 
from  all  comers  in  a  dubious  neighborhood  below 
Larimer  Street. 

The  second  week  brought  sharper  misery  than  the 
first,  since  it  enforced  the  pitiful  shifts  of  vagrancy 
before  he  could  acquire  the  spirit-breaking  experi- 
ence which  makes  them  tolerable.  But  before  many 
days  the  poor  remnants  of  pride  and  self-respect 
gave  up  the  unequal  struggle,  leaving  him  to  his 
own  devices  ;  after  which  he  soon  learned  how  to 
keep  an  open  and  unbalanced  meal-aud-cigar  account 
with  his  few  unmercenary  friends. 


THE   HELPERS  45 

In  a  short  time,  however,  the  friendly  tables  began 
to  grow  scarce.  Bartrow  went  back  to  his  mine, 
and  with  his  going  the  doors  of  the  St.  James's  din- 
ing-room opened  no  more  to  the  proletary.  Then 
came  the  return  of  John  Pettigrew,  whose  hospitality 
was  as  boimdless  as  the  range  whereon  his  herds 
grazed,  and  who  claimed  kinship  with  Jeffard  be- 
cause both  chanced  to  be  transplanted  New  England- 
ers.  While  Pettigrew  stayed  in  Denver,  Jeffard 
lived  on  the  fat  of  the  land,  eating  at  his  friend's 
table  at  the  Albany,  and  gambling  with  the  ranch- 
man's money  at  odd  hours  of  the  day  and  night. 
But  after  Pettigrew  left  there  was  another  lean  in- 
terval, and  Jeffard  grew  haggard  and  ran  his  weight 
down  at  the  rate  of  a  pound  a  day. 

In  the  midst  of  this  came  a  spasm  of  the  reform- 
ative sort,  born  of  a  passing  glimjjse  of  Stephen 
Elliott's  daughter  on  one  of  her  charitable  expedi- 
tions. The  incident  brought  him  face  to  face  with  a 
fact  which  had  been  unconsciously  lending  despera- 
tion to  despair.  Now  that  the  discovery  could  be 
no  more  than  an  added  twist  of  the  thumbscrew,  he 
began  to  realize  that  he  had  found  in  the  person  of 
the  sweet-faced  young  woman  with  the  far-seeing 
eyes  the  Heaven-born  alchemist  who  could,  if  she  so 
willed,  transmute  the  flinty  perverseness  of  him  into 
plastic  wax,  shaping  it  after  her  own  ideals ;  that  it 
was  the  unacknowledged  beginning  of  love  which  had 
found  wings  for  the  short-lived  flight  of  higher  hopes 
and  more  worthy  aspirations.  The  day  of  fasting 
and  penitence  had  set  his  feet  in  the  way  leadmg  to 


46  THE  HELPERS 

reinstatement  in  his  o^^^l  good  opinion  ;  but  the  meet- 
inc  with  Constance  was  answerable  for  a  worthier 
jjrompting,  —  a  perfervid  determination  to  fight  his 
way  back  to  better  things  for  righteousness'  sake, 
knowing  that  no  otherwise  could  he  hope  to  stand 
with  her  on  the  Mount  of  Benediction. 

It  was  against  this  anointing  of  grace  that  he  had 
sinned ;  and  it  was  in  remorseful  memory  of  it  that 
he  brushed  his  clothes,  put  on  an  ill-fitting  air  of 
respectability,  and  tramped  the  streets  in  a  fruit- 
less search  for  employment  until  he  was  ready  to 
drop  from  fatigue  and  hunger.  Nothing  came  of  it. 
The  great  pubhc,  and  notably  the  employing  minor- 
ity of  it,  is  no  mean  physiognomist ;  and  the  gam- 
bler carries  his  hall-mark  no  less  than  the  profligate 
or  the  drunkard. 

At  the  close  of  one  of  these  days  of  dishearten- 
ment,  a  day  wherein  a  single  cup  of  coffee  had  been 
made  to  stand  sponsor  for  breakfast,  luncheon,  and 
dinner,  Jeffard  saw  a  familiar  figure  standing  at  the 
coimter  in  one  of  the  newspaper  offices.  Knowing 
his  man,  Jeffard  stopped  on  the  sidewalk  and  waited. 
If  Lansdale  had  but  the  price  of  a  single  meal  in 
his  pocket,  two  men  would  share  that  meal  that 
night. 

There  were  two  entrances  to  the  newspaper  office, 
and  Jeffard  watched  beaglewise  lest  his  chance  of 
breaking  his  fast  should  vanish  while  he  tarried. 
Presently  Lansdale  came  out,  and  Jeffard  fell  upon 
him  before  he  could  latch  the  door. 

"  Salaam  !    Jeffard,  my  son,"  said  the  outcomer. 


THE  HELPERS  47 

*'  I  saw  you  waiting  for  me.  How  goes  tlie  world- 
old  struo^crle  for  existence  ?  " 

"  Don't  remind  me  of  it,  Lansdale ;  do  you  hap- 
pen to  have  the  price  of  a  meal  about  you  ?  " 

Lansdale  smiled,  and  gravely  tucking  Jeffard's 
arm  under  his  own,  steered  diagonally  across  the 
street  toward  the  open  doors  of  a  cafe. 

"  Now  that  is  what  our  forefathers  called  Provi- 
dence, and  what  we,  being  so  much  wiser  in  our  own 
generation,  call  luck,"  he  declared.  "  I  had  just  got 
a  check  out  of  the  post-office  for  a  bit  of  work  sent 
months  ago  to  an  editor  whose  name  is  unhasting. 
When  you  saw  me  I  was  closing  a  negotiation,  by 
the  terms  of  which  the  cashier  of  the  '  Coloradoan ' 
becomes  my  banker.  Behold,  now,  the  mysteries  of 
—  shall  we  say  Providence  ?  At  any  time  within 
the  six  months  I  would  have  sworn  that  the  oppor- 
tune moment  for  the  arrival  of  this  bit  of  money- 
paper  had  come ;  nevertheless  Providence,  and  the 
slow-geared  editor,  get  it  here  just  in  time  to  save 
two  men  from  going  to  bed  supperless.  Why  don't 
you  say  something  ?  " 

They  were  at  the  door  of  the  cafe,  and  Jeffard 
gripped  his  companion's  arm  and  thrust  him  in. 
"  Can't  you  see  that  I  'm  too  damned  hungry  to 
talk  ?  "  he  demanded  savagely  ;  and  Lansdale  wisely 
held  his  peace  until  the  barbarian  in  his  guest  had 
been  appeased. 

When  the  soup  and  fish  had  disappeared,  Jeffard 
was  ashamed  of  himself,  and  said  as  much. 

"  You  must  n't  mind  what  I  said,"  he  began,  by 


48  THE   HELPERS 

way  of  making  amends.  "  I  used  to  think  I  was  a 
civilized  being-,  but,  God  lielp  me,  Lausdale,  I  'm 
not  I  When  I  've  gone  without  food  for  twenty-four 
hours  on  end,  I  'm  nothing  more  or  less  than  a  hun- 
gry savage." 

Lausdale  smiled  intelligence.  "  I  know  the  taste 
of  it,  and  it 's  bad  medicine  —  for  the  soid  as  well 
as  for  the  body,"  he  rejoined.  "  There  is  reason  to 
suspect  that  Shakespeare  never  went  hungry,  else 
he  would  n't  have  said,  '  Sweet  are  the  uses  of  adver- 
sity.' They  're  not  sweet ;  they  're  damnably  bitter. 
A  man  may  come  forth  of  the  wuiepress  with  bones 
unbroken  and  insight  sharpened  to  the  puncturing 
point ;  but  his  capacity  for  e\al  will  be  increased  in 
just  proportion." 

"  I  don't  want  to  believe  that,"  said  Jeffard,  whose 
despair  was  not  yet  proof  against  a  good  meal  in 
good  company. 

"  You  need  n't,  but  it 's  true.  The  necessities 
breed  a  certain  famiharity  wdth  eyil.  Moral  metes 
and  bounds  have  a  trick  of  tlisappearing  in  the  day 
of  physical  dearth.  AVhen  hunger  has  driven  a  man 
over  the  ethical  bomidary  a  few  times,  the  crossing 
becomes  easy ;  and  wlien  hunger  drops  the  whip,  in- 
clination is  very  likely  to  take  it  up." 

Jeflfard  laughed.  "  '  The  words  of  Agiu-  the  son 
of  Jakeh,'  "  he  quoted.  "  I  believe  you  'd  moralize 
if  you  were  going  to  be  hanged,  Lausdale." 

"  Perhaps  I  should.  What  possible  contingency 
could  offer  better  opportunities?  And  am  I  not 
going  to  be  hanged  —  or  choked,  which  amounts  to 
the  same  thing  ?  " 


THE   HELPERS  49 

Jeffard  looked  up  quickly  and  saw  what  the  myo- 
pia of  hunger  had  hitherto  obscured  :  that  his  com- 
panion's smooth-shaven  face  seemed  gaunter  than 
usual,  and  that  his  hands  were  unsteady  when  he 
lifted  the  knife  and  fork. 

"  Colorado  is  n't  helping  you,  then,"  he  said. 

"  No  ;  but  it  is  n't  altogether  Colorado's  fault. 
The  Boston  medicine  man  said  change  of  climate, 
plenty  of  outdoor  indolence,  nutritious  food  at  stated 
intervals.  I  have  all  any  one  could  ask  of  the  first, 
and  as  little  of  either  of  the  others  as  may  be." 

"  But  you  do  good  work,  Lansdale.  I  've  always 
believed  you  could  make  it  wui,  in  time.  Hasn't 
the  time  come  yet  ?  " 

"  No.  What  I  can  do  easiest  would  bring  bread 
and  meat,  if  I  could  sell  it ;  but  a  literary  hack- 
writer has  no  business  in  Colorado  —  or  anywhere 
else  outside  of  the  literary  centres.  In  Boston  I 
could  always  find  an  odd  job  of  reviewing,  or  space- 
writing,  or  something  that  would  serve  to  keep  body 
and  sold  together ;  but  here  they  won't  have  me 
even  in  the  newspapers." 

"  Overcrowded,  I  suppose,  like  everything  else 
in  this  cursed  country." 

"  That 's  the  alleged  reason  ;  but  the  fact  is  that 
I'm  not  a  journalist.  Your  thoroughbred  news- 
paper man  has  more  or  less  contempt  for  a  fellow 
who  can't  or  won't  write  journalese." 

They  had  attained  to  the  dessert,  and  the  waiter 
was  opening  a  modest  bottle  of  claret  for  them. 
Jeffard  turned  his  wineglass  down. 


50  THE  HELPERS 

••'  What !  Is  that  the  way  you  flout  a  man's  hos- 
pitahty?  "  deiuaiuled  Lausdale,  in  mock  displeasure. 

"  No  ;  I  don't  mean  to  do  that.  But  I  'm  drunken 
with  feasting  now,  and  if  I  put  wme  into  me  I  shall 
pawn  the  coat  off  my  back  before  micbiight  for  a 
stake  to  play  with." 

Lansdale  smiled.  "  I  '11  see  that  you  don't  have 
to.     Turn  up  your  glass." 

But  Jeffard  was  obstinate,  and  sat  munching 
raisins  while  Lansdale  sipped  his  wine.  When  the 
waiter  brought  the  cigars  he  came  out  of  his  reverie 
to  say,  "  You  want  to  live,  don't  you,  Lansdale?" 

The  potential  man  of  letters  took  time  to  think 
about  it.  "  I  suppose  I  do  ;  else  I  should  n't  be 
starving  to  death  in  Denver,"  he  admitted  finally. 

"  And  there  is  nothing  but  the  lack  of  a  little  ready 
money  that  keeps  j^ou  from  giving  the  Boston  doc- 
tor's prescription  a  fair  trial.  If  I  had  the  money 
I  believe  I  'd  change  places  with  you ;  that  is,  I  'd 
give  you  the  money  in  exchange  for  your  good 
chance  of  being  able  to  shuffle  off  mortality  without 
the  help  of  extraneous  means.  I  think  I  've  had 
enough  of  it." 

"  Do  you  ?  That  proves  how  little  a  man  has 
learned  when  he  thinks  he  has  arrived.  Now  \m\\ 
yourself  together,  and  tell  me  what  you  really  would 
do  if  you  became  suddenly  rich." 

"  How  rich  ?  " 

"  Oh,  make  it  a  comfortable  figure ;  say  eight  or 
ten  thousand  a  month  for  an  income." 

"  I  'd  do  what  I  said  I  shoidd,  —  change  places 


THE  HELPERS  51 

with  you ;  only  I  suppose  that  would  n't  be  possible. 
Failing  that "  —  He  pondered  over  it  for  a  mo- 
ment, balancing  his  fork  on  the  edge  of  his  plate  the 
while.  "  A  few  weeks  ago  I  should  have  mapped 
out  a  future  worth  talking  about.  I  had  a  lucid 
day,  in  which  the  things  that  make  for  ambition  of 
the  better  sort  had  their  inning.  If  you  had  asked 
me  such  a  question  then,  I  should  doubtless  have 
told  you  that  I  should  try  to  realize  the  ideals  of 
other  days ;  to  walk  uprightly,  and  to  hold  great 
wealth  as  it  should  be  held  —  in  trust  for  the  good 
of  one's  kind ;  to  win  the  love  of  the  ideal  woman, 
perhaps ;  and,  having  won  it,  to  sit  at  her  feet  until 
I  had  learned  how  to  be  God's  almoner." 

Lansdale's  smile  was  not  wholly  cynical.  "  But 
now  ?  "  he  queried. 

"  But  now  I  know  my  own  Hmitations.  I  think 
I  should  go  back  to  the  old  farm  in  the  Berkshire 
Hills,  and  try  to  make  it  earn  me  bread  and  meat." 

"  But  you  could  n't  spend  ten  thousand  a  month 
on  an  abandoned  farm,  though  I  grant  you  it  would 
be  a  pretty  expensive  luxury.  What  would  you  do 
with  the  lave  of  it  ?  " 

Jeffard's  lips  tightened,  and  his  face  was  not  plea- 
sant to  look  upon.  "•  I  'd  let  it  go  on  accumulating, 
pihng  up  and  up  till  there  was  no  shadow  of  possi- 
bility that  I  shordd  ever  again  come  to  know  what 
it  means  to  be  without  money.  And  even  then  I 
should  know  I  could  never  get  enough,"  he  added. 

Tliis  time  Lansdale's  smile  was  of  incredidity. 
"  Let  me  prophesy,"  he  suggested.     "  When  your 


C2  THE   HELPERS 

lucky  day  overtakes  you,  you  will  do  none  of  these 
thin<>;s.  Jeffard  the  fool  may  be  heard  of  wherever 
the  Associated  Press  has  a  wire  or  a  correspondent ; 
but  Jeffard  the  miser  will  never  exist  outside  of  your 
own  unbalanced  imagination.  Let 's  go  out  and  walk. 
It 's  fervidly  close  in  here." 

Arm  in  arm  they  paced  the  streets  until  nearly 
midnight,  talking  of  things  practical  and  impracti- 
cable, and  keeping  well  out  of  the  present  in  either 
the  past  or  the  future.  When  Lansdale  said  good- 
night, he  stuffed  a  bank-note  into  Jeffard's  pocket. 

"  It 's  only  a  loan,"  he  protested,  when  Jeffard 
would  have  made  him  take  it  back.  "  And  there 
are  no  conditions.  You  can  go  and  play  with  it,  if 
that 's  what  you  'd  rather  do." 

The  suggestion  was  unfortunate,  though  possibly 
the  residt  would  have  been  the  same  in  any  event. 
Five  minutes  after  parting  from  Lansdale,  Jeffard 
had  taken  his  place  in  the  silent  group  around  the 
table  in  the  upper  room  ;  and  by  the  time  the  pile 
of  counters  under  his  hand  had  increased  to  double 
the  amount  of  Lansdale's  gift,  he  was  oblivious  to 
everything  save  the  one  potent  fact  —  that  after  so 
many  reverses  his  luck  had  turned  at  last. 

Five  hundred  and  odd  dollars  he  had  at  one  time 
in  that  eventful  sitting,  and  his  neighbor  across  the 
corner  of  the  table,  a  grizzled  miner  with  the  jaw  of 
a  pugilist  and  eyes  that  had  a  trick  of  softening 
like  a  woman's,  had  warned  him  by  winks,  nods, 
and  sundry  kicks  under  the  table  to  stop.  Jef- 
fard scowled  his  resentment  of  the  interference  and 


THE   HELPERS  53 

played  on,  losing  steadily  until  his  capital  had  shrunk 
to  fifty  dollars.  Then  the  miner  rose  up  in  his 
place,  reached  across,  and  gave  Jeffard  an  open- 
handed  buffet  that  nearly  knocked  him  out  of  his 
chair. 

"  Dad  blame  you  !  "  he  roared  ;  "  I  '11  learn  you 
how  to  spile  my  play  !  Stan'  up  and  fight  it  out 
like  a  man  !  " 

The  game  stopped  at  once.  The  dealer  held  his 
hand,  and  the  banker  reached  for  his  revolver. 

"  You  two  gen'lemen  cash  in  and  get  out  o'  here," 
he  commanded.  "  This  is  a  gen'leman's  game,  and 
we  don't  run  no  shootin'-gallery  —  leastwise,  not  un- 
less /  have  to  take  a  hand  in  it.  Pass  in  your 
chips." 

They  both  obeyed ;  the  miner  with  maledictory 
reluctance,  and  Jeffard  in  a  tremulous  frenzy  of 
wrath.  When  they  reached  the  sidewallc,  Jeffard 
flung  liimseK  savagely  upon  his  assailant,  only  to 
learn  that  abstinence  is  a  poor  trainer,  and  that  he 
was  little  better  than  a  lay-figure  in  the  grasp  of  the 
square-jawed  one  with  the  melting  eyes.  The  big 
man  thrust  him  into  a  corner  and  held  him  there 
until  he  listened  to  reason. 

"  You  blamed  idjit !  you  hain't  got  sense  enough 
to  go  in  when  it  rains  !  Hold  still,  'r  I  '11  bump  your 
head  ag'inst  the  wall !  As  I  was  sayin',  you  don't 
know  enough  to  pound  sand.  Every  single  time 
I  've  been  in  this  dive,  you  've  been  here,  too, 
a-blowin'  yourself  like  you  had  a  wad  as  big  as  a 
feather  bed,  and  you  know  danged  well  you  hain't 


54  THE  HELPERS 

got  notliin'.  And  you  would  n't  'a'  kep'  a  dem  cent 
to-night,  if  I  had  n't  thumped  you  and  raised  a  row. 
Now  you  go  and  hunt  you  a  place  to  sleep  while 
you  've  got  dust  enough  to  pay  for  it ;  and  don't  you 
come  rovuid  here  ag'in  till  you  've  put  a  whole  grub- 
stake inside  of  you.     Savez?" 


CHAPTER  VII 

From  the  beginning  of  the  cannibalistic  stage  of 
the  journey  down  the  inclined  plane,  Jeffard  had  de- 
termined that,  come  what  might,  he  would  keep 
enough  of  his  wardi'obe  to  enable  him  to  present  an 
outward  appearance  of  respectability.  With  a  vague 
premonition  of  the  not  improbable  end  of  the  jour- 
ney he  recoiled  at  the  thought  of  figuring  before  a 
coroner's  jury  as  a  conlmon  vagrant. 

This  resolution,  however,  like  all  others  of  a  pride- 
ful  nature,  went  down  before  the  renewed  assaults 
of  the  allies,  hunger  and  dementia.  Whereby  it 
speedily  came  to  pass  that  he  retained  only  the  gar- 
ments he  stood  in,  and  these  soon  became  shabby 
and  wayworn.  Since,  in  his  own  estimation,  if  not 
in  that  of  others,  the  clothes  do  make  the  man  to  a 
very  considerable  extent,  Jeffard  gradually  withdrew 
from  his  former  lounging-places,  confining  himself 
to  the  less  critical  region  below  Larimer  Street 
during  the  day,  and  avoiding  as  much  as  possible 
the  haunts  of  his  former  associates  at  all  hours. 

It  was  for  this  cause  that  Bartrow,  on  his  return 
from  Chaffee  County,  was  unable  to  find  Jeffard. 
Meeting  Lansdale  when  the  search  had  become 
unhopeful,  the  large-hearted  man  of  the  altitudes 
lamented  his  failure  after  his  own  pecidiar  fashion. 


m  THE   HELPERS 

"  When  was  it  you  saw  him  last  ?  "  he  inquired 
of  the  transplanted  Bostonian. 

"  It  was  about  a  week  ago.  To  be  exact,  it  was  a 
week  Tuesday.  I  remember  because  we  dined  to- 
gether that  evening." 

"  Now  does  n't  that  beat  the  band  ?  Here  I  've 
gone  and  got  him  a  soft  snap  up  on  the  range  — 
good  pay,  and  little  or  nothuig  to  do  —  and  he  's  got 
to  go  and  drop  out  like  a  monte  man's  little  joker. 
It 's  enough  to  make  a  man  swear  continuous  !  " 

"  I  don't  think  he  would  have  gone  with  you," 
Lansdale  ventured. 

"  Would  n't,  eh  ?  If  I  can  find  him  I  "U  take 
liim  by  the  neck  and  make  him  go  ;  savez  ?  How 
do  you  put  it  up  ?  Runaway  ?  or  a  pile  of  bones  out 
on  the  prairie  somewhere?  " 

"  It 's  hard  to  say.  Jeffard  's  a  queer  combina- 
tion of  good  and  not  so  good,  —  like  a  few  others  of 
us,  —  and  just  now  the  negative  part  is  on  top.  He 
was  pretty  low  the  night  we  were  together,  though 
when  we  separated  I  thought  he  was  taking  himself 
a  little  less  seriously." 

"  Did  n't  talk  about  getting  the  drop  on  himself, 
or  anything  like  that  ?  " 

"  N — no,  not  in  a  way  to  leave  the  impression 
that  he  was  in  any  immediate  danger  of  doing  such 
a  thing." 

Bartrow  chewed  the  end  of  his  cigar  reflectively. 
"  Has  n't  taken  to  quizzing  the  world  through  the 
bottom  of  a  whiskey-glass  ?  " 

"  No,  I  should  say  not.  Thus  far,  I  think  he  has 
but  the  one  devil." 


THE   HELPERS  57 

"  And  that 's  the  '  tiger,'  of  course.  I  knew  about 
that ;  I  've  kno^vn  it  all  along-.  The  Lord  forgive 
me !  I  don't  know  but  I  was  the  ring-master  in  that 
show.  You  know  we  chased  around  a  good  deal 
together,  along  at  the  fii-st,  and  it 's  as  likely  as  not 
I  showed  him  a  whole  lot  of  things  he  'd  better  not 
have  seen." 

The  half-cynical  smile  lightened  upon  Lansdale's 
grave  face.  "  That  is  one  of  my  criticisms  of 
Western  manners,"  he  commented.  "  When  you 
get  hold  of  a  stranger,  you  welcome  him  with  open 
arms  —  and  proceed  to  regale  him  with  a  near-hand 
view  of  the  back  yards  and  cesspools.  And  then  you 
swear  piteously  when  he  goes  back  East  and  teUs 
his  friends  what  an  abandoned  lot  you  are." 

Bartrow  took  the  thrust  good-naturedly,  as  he  did 
most  of  his  chastenings.  "  That 's  right ;  that 's 
just  about  what  we  do.  But  you  've  been  here  long 
enough  now  to  know  that  it 's  meant  for  hospitality. 
It 's  a  way  we  've  got  into  of  taking  it  for  gTanted 
that  people  come  out  here  more  to  see  the  sights 
than  for  any  other  purpose." 

"  Oh,  it 's  good  of  you  —  I  don't  deny  that ;  only 
it 's  a  little  rough  on  the  new-comer,  sometimes. 
Take  Jeffard's  case,  for  example.  He  came  to 
Denver  with  good  introductions ;  I  know,  for  I 
saw  some  of  them.  But  a  man  in  a  strange  city 
does  n't  often  go  about  presenting  his  social  creden- 
tials. What  he  does  is  to  make  a  few  haphazard 
acquaintances,  and  let  them  set  the  pace  for  him. 
That  is  what  Jeffard  did,  and  I  '11  venture  to  say 


58  THE  HELPERS 

there  have  been  nine  evil  doors  open  to  him  to  one 
good  one.  You  've  known  him  longer  than  any  one 
else  —  how  many  times  have  you  invited  him  to 
spend  a  rational  evening  with  you  in  the  company 
of  respectable  people  ?  " 

"  Good  Lord,  Lansdale  ;  for  Heaven's  sake  don't 
begin  to  open  up  that  lead !  We  're  all  miserable 
sinners,  and  I  'm  the  medicine-man  of  the  tribe.  I 
never  asked  the  poor  devil  to  go  visiting  with  me 
but  once,  and  that  was  after  he  was  down." 

"  And  then  he  would  n't  go,  as  a  matter  of  course. 
But  that  is  neither  here  nor  there.  I  '11  find  him 
for  you,  if  I  can,  and  leave  word  for  you  at  the  St. 
James." 

"  You  're  a  brick,  Lansdale  ;  that 's  about  what 
you  are.  I  '11  get  square  with  you  some  day.  By 
the  way,  can't  you  come  up  to  Steve  Elliott's  with 
me  this  evening  and  meet  some  good  people  ?  " 

Lansdale  laughed  outright.  "  You  're  a  good 
fellow,  Bartrow,  but  you  're  no  diplomat.  When  I 
go  arfishing  into  your  mentality  you  '11  never  see  the 
hook.  Make  my  apologies  to  your  friends,  and  tell 
them  I  'm  an  invalid." 

And  Bartrow,  being  densely  practical,  and  so 
proof  against  irony  of  whatsoever  calibre,  actually 
did  so  that  evening  when  he  called  upon  Miss 
Elliott  and  her  cousin. 

"  But  your  friend  was  n't  promised  to  us,  Mr.  Bar- 
trow," objected  Miss  Van  Vetter.  "Why  should  he 
send  excuses  ?  " 

"  1  'm  blessed  if  I  know,"  said  honest  Dick,  looking 


THE  HELPERS  59 

innocently  from  one  to  the  other  of  them.  "  But 
that 's  what  he  told  me  to  do,  and  I  've  done  it." 

Constance  laughed  softly.  "  You  're  too  good  for 
any  use,  Dick.  He  was  making  game  of  you.  Tell 
us  how  he  came  to  say  it." 

Bartrow  did  that,  also  ;  and  the  two  young  women 
laughed  in  chorus. 

"  After  you  've  had  your  fun  out  of  it  I  wish 
you  'd  tell  me,  so  I  can  laugh  too,"  he  said.  "  I 
can't  see  where  the  joke  comes  in,  myself." 

Constance  enlightened  him.  "  There  is  n't  any 
joke  —  only  this  :  he  had  just  been  scolding  you 
about  your  inhospitality,  and  then  you  turn  on  him 
and  ask  him  to  go  calling  with  you.  Of  course, 
he  could  n't  accept,  then ;  it  would  have  been  like 
inviting  himself." 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  I  don't  see  why  he  should  n't 
invite  himself,  if  he  felt  like  it.  He  's  a  rattling 
good  fellow."  And  from  thence  the  talk  drifted 
easily  to  Jeffard,  who  was,  or  who  had  been,  another 
good  fellow. 

At  the  mention  of  Jeffard's  name,  Constance 
borrowed  the  mask  of  disinterest,  and  laid  her  com- 
mands on  Bartrow.     "  Tell  us  about  him,"  she  said. 

"  There  is  n't  much  to  tell.  He  came  here  from 
somewhere  back  East,  got  into  bad  company,  lost 
his  money,  and  now  he  's  disappeared." 

"  How  did  he  lose  his  money?"  Constance  would 
have  asked  the  question,  but  her  cousin  forestalled 
her. 

"  Gambled  it,"  quoth  Bartrow  placidly. 


60  THE  HELPERS 

Constance  looked  sorry,  and  Miss  Van  Vetter 
was  plainly  shocked.  "  How  very  dreadful !  "  said 
the  latter.     "  Did  he  lose  much  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ;  you  could  n't  call  it  much  —  only  a 
few  thousands,  I  believe.  But  then,  you  see,  it  was 
his  stake  ;  it  was  all  he  had,  and  he  could  n't  afford 
to  give  it  up.  And  now  he  has  gone  and  hid  out 
somewhere  just  when  I  have  found  a  place  for  him. 
It  makes  me  very  weary." 

"Can't  you  find  any  trace  of  him?"  queried 
Constance.  "  That  is  singidar.  I  shoidd  think  he 
would  have  left  his  address." 

Bartrow  grinned.  "  Well,  hardly.  Man  don't 
leave  his  address  when  he  wants  to  drop  out. 
That 's  the  one  thing  he  's  pretty  sure  to  take  with 
him.  But  we  '11  run  him  down  yet,  if  he  's  on  top 
of  earth.  Lansdale  has  seen  more  of  him  lately 
than  I  have,  and  he  is  taking  a  hand.  He  and 
Jeffard  used  to  flock  together  a  good  deal  when  the 
shoe  was  on  the  other  foot." 

Miss  Van  Vetter  looked  mystified ;  and  Bartrow 
deemed  it  a  matter  for  seK-congratulation  that  he 
was  able  to  comprehend  the  query  in  her  eyes  with- 
out having  it  hurled  at  him  in  so  many  words. 

"  That  was  while  Jeffard  had  money,  and  Lans- 
dale was  trying  to  starve  himself  to  death,"  he  ex- 
plained. "  You  see,  Lansdale  is  a  queer  fish  in 
some  ways.  When  he 's  down  he  won't  let  anybody 
touch  him  on  his  money  side,  so  we  used  to  work  all 
kinds  of  schemes  to  keep  him  going.  Jeffard  would 
study  them  up,  and  I  'd  help  him  steer  them." 


THE  HELPERS  61 

This  was  practical  benevolence,  and  Connie's  in- 
terest bestirred  itseK  in  its  charitable  part.  "  What 
were  some  of  the  schemes?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  there  were  a  lot  of  them.  Lansdale  can 
see  farther  into  a  millstone  than  most  people,  and 
we  had  to  invent  new  ones  as  we  went  along.  One 
time,  Jeffard  bought  a  common,  every-day  sort  of  a 
pocketbook,  and  rumpled  it  up  and  tramped  on  it 
till  it  looked  as  if  it  might  have  come  across  the 
plains  in  Fifty-nine.  Then  he  put  a  twenty-dollar 
bill  and  some  loose  silver  in  it,  and  dropped  it  on 
the  sidewalk  where  I  was  walking  Lansdale  up  and 
down  for  his  health.  After  a  while,  when  he  'd 
actually  stumbled  over  it  four  or  five  times,  Lans- 
dale saw  the  wallet  and  picked  it  up.  Right  there 
the  scheme  nearly  fell  down.  You  see,  he  was 
going  to  make  me  take  charge  of  it  while  he  ad- 
vertised it.  I  got  out  of  it,  somehow,  but  I  don't 
believe  he  used  a  nickel  of  the  money  for  a  month." 

Connie  clapped  her  hands  softly.  "  That  was 
fine  !     Tell  us  some  more." 

"  The  next  one  was  better,  and  it  worked  like  a 
charm.  Lansdale  writes  things  for  the  papers,  only 
the  editors  here  would  n't  buy  any  of  his  work  "  — 

"Why  not?"  interrupted  Miss  Van  Vetter. 

"  I  don't  know ;  because  it  was  too  good,  I  guess. 
Anyway,  they  would  n't  buy  it,  so  Jeffard  went  to 
work  on  that  lead.  I  took  him  around  and  intro- 
duced him  to  Kershaw  of  the  '  Coloradoan,'  and  he 
made  Kershaw  take  fifty  dollars  on  deposit,  and  got 
him  to  promise  to  accept  some  of  Lansdale's  stories. 


62  THE  HELPERS 

Kershaw  kicked  like  the  deu —  like  the  mischief, 
and  did  n't  want  to  do  it ;  but  we  bullied  him,  and 
then  I  <;ot  Lansdale  to  send  him  some  stuff." 

"  Mr.  Jeffard  is  an  artist  in  schemes,  and  I  envy 
him,"  said  Connie.     "  What  happened  to  that  one?" 

"  Kershaw  upset  it  by  not  printing  the  stuff.  Of 
course,  Lansdale  watched  the  '  Coloradoan,'  and 
when  he  found  he  was  n't  in  it,  he  would  n't  send 
any  more.  We  caught  hun  the  next  time,  though, 
for  something  worth  while." 

"  How  was  that  ?  "  It  was  Miss  Van  Vetter  who 
asked  the  question ;  and  Bartrow  made  a  strenuous 
effort  to  evade  the  frontier  idiom  wdiicli  stood  ready 
to  trip  him  at  every  turn  when  Myra  Van  Vetter's 
poisefid  gaze  rested  upon  him. 

"  Why,  I  happen  to  have  a  played-out  —  er  — 
that  is,  a  sort  of  no-accoimt  mine  up  in  Clear  Creek, 
and  I  made  Lansdale  believe  I  was  the  resident 
agent  for  the  proj^erty,  authorized  to  get  up  a  de- 
scriijtive  prospectus.  He  took  the  job  of  writing  it, 
and  never  once  tumbled  to  the  racket  —  that  is,  he 
never  suspected  that  we  were  working  him  for  a  — 
oh,  good  Lord,  why  can't  I  talk  plain  English !  — 
you  know  what  I  mean;  he  thought  it  was  all 
straight.  Well,  he  turned  in  the  copy,  and  we  paid 
him  as  much  as  he  'd  stand ;  but  he  has  just  about 
worried  the  life  out  of  me  ever  since,  trying  to  get 
to  read  proof  on  that  prospectus.  That  one  was 
Jeffard's  idea,  too,  but  I  made  him  let  me  in  on  the 
assessment." 

Before  Miss  Van  Vetter  could  inquire  what  the 


THE   HELPERS  63 

"  assessment "  was,  Stephen  Elliott  came  in  and 
the  talk  became  general.  An  hour  later,  when  Bar- 
trow  took  his  leave,  Constance  went  to  the  door 
with  him. 

"  Don't  you  really  know  where  Mr.  Jeffard  is, 
Dick  ?  "  she  asked. 

Something  in  her  tone  set  him  upon  the  right 
track.     "  No  ;  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  know  that  he  left  Denver  quite  a  while  ago  ; 
about  the  time  you  were  down  last." 

"  How  do  you  know  it  ?  " 

"  He  told  me  he  was  going." 

"  The  mischief  he  did !  Where  did  you  get 
acquainted  with  him  ?  " 

"  At  Mrs.  Calmaine's." 

Honest  Dick  ground  his  heel  into  the  door-mat 
and  thrust  his  hands  deep  into  the  pockets  of  his 
overcoat.  What  was  in  his  mind  came  out  shorn 
of  euphemism. 

"  Say,  Connie,  do  you  care  anything  about  him  ?  " 

"  What  a  question  !  "  she  retorted,  not  pretend- 
ing to  misunderstand  its  pointing.  "  I  've  met  him 
only  once  —  or  twice,  I  shoidd  say,  though  I  did  n't 
even  know  his  name  the  first  time." 

"  What  did  he  tell  you  ?  about  his  going  away,  I 
mean." 

"  He  said  —  but  you  've  no  right  to  ask  me, 
Dick.     It  was  n't  exactly  a  confidence,  but  "  — 

"  Yes,  I  have  a  right  to  ask  ;  he  was  my  friend  a 
good  while  before  he  was  yours.  Tell  me  what  he 
said." 


64  THE  HELPERS 

"  He  gave  me  to  understand  that  things  had  n't 
been  going  quite  right  with  him,  and  he  said  he  was 
going  to  the  mountains  to  —  to  try  to  make  another 
start." 

Bartrow  tucked  Connie's  arm  under  his  own  and 
"walked  her  up  and  down  the  long  veranda  t\vice  be- 
fore he  could  bring  himself  to  say  the  thing  that 
was. 

"  He  did  n't  go,  Connie ;  he 's  here  now,  if  he 
has  n't  gone  out  on  the  prairie  somewhere  and  taken 
a  pot  shot  at  himself.  Lansdale  saw  him  only  a 
week  or  so  ago." 

"  Oh,  Dick  !  " 

"  It 's  tough,  is  n't  it  ?  "  He  stood  on  the  step 
and  buttoned  his  coat.  "  But  I  'm  glad  you  know 
him  —  or  at  least,  know  who  he  is.  If  you  should 
happen  to  run  across  him  in  any  of  your  charity 
trips,  just  set  Tommie  on  him  and  wire  me  if  you 
find  out  where  he  burrows." 

"  You  said  you  had  found  a  place  for  him.  WiU 
it  keep  ?  " 

"  I  '11  try  to  hold  it  open  for  him,  and  if  you  wire, 
I  '11  come  dowTi  and  tackle  him.  He  's  too  good  a 
fellow  to  turn  down  in  his  little  day  of  witless- 
ness.  Good-night ;  and  good-by  —  for  a  week  or 
so.     I  've  got  to  go  back  on  the  morning  train." 


CHAPTER   VIII 

Contrary  to  the  doctor's  prophecy,  Margaret 
Gannon's  progTess  toward  recovery  was  slow  and 
rather  uncertain.  Constance  professed  to  be  sorry, 
but  in  her  heart  she  was  thankful,  since  the  hesitant 
convalescence  gave  her  time  to  try  many  expedients 
pointing  toward  the  moral  rehabilitation  of  her  pro- 
tegee. Ignoring  Margaret's  bodeful  prediction,  Con- 
stance coursed  far  and  wide,  quartering  the  domestic 
field  diligently ;  but  inasmuch  as  she  was  careful  in 
each  instance  to  state  the  exact  truth,  each  endeavor 
was  but  the  introduction  to  another  failure. 

"  Why,  Constance  Elliott !  The  idea  of  your  pro- 
posing such  a  thing  to  me !  "  said  Mrs.  Calmaine, 
upon  whose  motherly  good  sense  Connie  had  leaned 
from  childhood.  "  That  is  what  comes  of  a  girl 
growing  up  as  you  have  without  a  mother  to  watch 
over  her.  Can't  you  understand  how  dreadful  it  is 
for  you  to  mix  up  in  such  thmgs  ?  You  can't  touch 
pitch  and  not  be  defiled." 

Connie  was  moved,  first  to  tears,  and  presently  to 
indignation. 

"  No,  I  can't  understand  anything  of  the  kind," 
she  retorted.  "  It 's  your  privilege  not  to  take 
Margaret  if  you  don't  want  her  ;  but  it 's  mine  to 
help  her,  if  I  can.  And  I  mean  to  do  it  in  spite  of 
all  the  cruel  prejudice  in  the  world !  " 


66  TUK   HELPERS 

"  You  talk  like  a  foolish  child,  Connie.  I  can 
tell  you  beforehand  that  you  won't  succeed  in  get- 
ting- the  woman  into  any  respectable  household  in 
Denver,  unless  you  do  it  under  false  pretenses." 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  our  Christianity,  then," 
Connie  asserted  stoutly.  "  If  people  won't  help, 
they  '11  have  it  to  answer  to  One  who  was  n't  afraid 
to  take  a  much  worse  woman  by  the  hand.  That 's 
all  I  have  to  say  about  it." 

Mrs.  Calmaine  smiled  benignantly.  She  had 
daughters  of  her  own,  and  knew  how  to  make  allow- 
ances for  youthful  enthusiasm. 

"  You  will  get  over  it,  after  a  while,  and  then 
you  '11  see  how  foolish  it  is  to  try  to  reform  the 
world  single-handed,"  she  rejoined.  "  You  might  as 
well  try  to  move  Pike's  Peak  as  to  think  you  can 
remodel  society  after  your  own  enthusiastic  notions. 
And  when  the  reflective  after-time  comes,  you  '11  be 
glad  that  society  did  n't  let  you  make  a  martyr  of 
yourself  at  its  expense. 

"  And,  Connie,  dear ;  there  is  another  side  of  the 
question  which  you  should  consider,"  she  continued, 
going  to  the  door  with  her  visitor.  "  It 's  this  : 
since  society  as  a  unit  insists  upon  having  this  par- 
ticular kind  of  reformative  work  turned  over  to  or- 
ganizations designed  for  the  purpose,  there  must  be 
a  sufficient  reason  for  it.  You  are  not  wiser  than 
the  aggregated  wisdom  of  the  civilized  centuries." 

Constance  went  her  way,  silenced,  but  by  no 
means  convinced ;  and  she  added  three  more  failures 
to  her  long  list  before  going  home  to  luncheon.     In 


THE  HELPERS  '67 

the  afternoon,  she  laid  hold  of  her  courage  yet  once 
again,  and  went  to  her  minister,  good  Dr.  Launces- 
ton,  pastor  of  St.  Cyril's-in-the-Desert.  Here,  in- 
deed, she  found  sympathy  without  stint,  but  it  was 
hopelessly  void  of  practical  suggestion. 

"  It  is  certainly  most  pitiful.  Miss  Elliott,  pitiful 
to  a  degree  ;  but  I  really  don't  see  what  is  to  be 
done.     Had  you  any  plan  in  view  that,  ah  "  — 

"  It  is  because  all  my  plans  have  come  to  grief 
that  I  am  here,"  said  Connie. 

"  Dear,  dear !  and  those  cases  are  so  very  hard  to 
deal  with.  Now,  if  it  were  a  question  of  money,  I 
dare  say  we  could  manage  it  quite  easily." 

Constance  had  some  very  clear  ideas  on  reformative 
subjects,  and  one  of  them  was  that  it  was  not  less 
cidpable  to  pauperize  than  to  ignore. 

"  It  is  n't  that,"  she  made  haste  to  say.  "  I  could 
get  money  easily  enough,  but  Margaret  would  n't  take 
it.     If  she  would,  I  should  have  small  hopes  for  her." 

"  No,"  rejoined  the  clergyman  reflectively  ;  "  you 
are  quite  right.  It  is  not  a  problem  to  be  solved  by 
money.  The  young  woman  must  be  given  a  chance 
to  win  her  way  back  to  respectability  by  her  own 
efforts.  Do  I  understand  that  she  is  willing  to  try 
if  the  opportunity  should  present  itseK  ?  " 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  can't  say  that  she  is  —  not  with- 
out reservation,"  Connie  admitted.  "  You  see,  she 
knows  the  cruel  side  of  the  world  ;  and  she  is  quite 
sure  that  any  effort  she  might  make  would  end  in 
defeat  and  deeper  disgrace." 

"  A  very  natural  apprehension,  and  one  for  which 


68  THE    HELPERS 

there  are  only  too  good  grounds,"  said  the  clergyman 
sadly.  "  We  are  compassionate  and  charitahle  in 
the  aggregate,  but  as  individuals  I  fear  we  are  very 
unmerciful.  Had  you  thought  of  trying  to  send 
her  to  one  of  our  institutional  homes  in  the  East?  I 
might  possibly  be  able  to  make  such  representations 
as  would  "  — 

Constance  shook  her  head.  "  IVIargaret  is  a  Ro- 
man Catholic,  and  I  suggested  the  House  of  the  Good 
Shepherd  in  one  of  our  earlier  talks.  She  fought 
the  idea  desperately,  and  I  don't  know  that  I  blame 
her.  She  is  just  a  woman  like  other  women,  and 
I  believe  she  would  gladly  undertake  an  honest 
woman's  work  in  the  world ;  but  that  is  n't  saying 
she  'd  be  willing  to  become  a  lay-sister." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not ;  I  quite  agree  with  you. 
But  what  else  can  you  do  for  her  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  Doctor  Launceston,  —  oh,  I  don't 
know !  But  I  '11  never  give  up  till  I  've  done  some- 
thing." 

In  the  momentary  afflatus  of  which  fine  determi- 
nation Constance  went  her  way  again,  not  wholly 
comfortless  this  time,  but  apparently  quite  as  far 
from  the  solution  of  the  problem  as  when  she  had 
latched  Mrs.  Calmaine's  gate  behind  her. 

As  for  the  clergyman,  the  precious  fervor  of  the 
young  enthusiast  left  a  spark  in  his  heart  which 
burst  into  flame  on  the  following  Sunday  morning, 
when  he  preached  a  stirring  sermon  from  the  text, 
"  Who  is  my  neighbor?  "  to  the  decorous  and  well- 
fed  congregation  of  St.  Cyril's-in-the-Desert. 


THE   HELPERS  69 

Leaving  the  rectory,  Constance  postponed  the 
quest  for  that  afternoon  and  went  to  pay  her  daily 
visit  to  Margaret.  On  the  way  downtown  a  happy 
thought  came  to  her,  and  she  welcomed  it  as  an 
inspiration,  setting  it  to  woi-k  as  soon  as  she  had  put 
the  convalescent's  room  in  order. 

"  You  are  feeling  better  to-day,  are  n't  you, 
Margaret?  "  she  began. 

""  Yes.  I  'm  thinking  I  '11  be  able  to  go  to  work 
again  before  long ;  only  Pete  Grim  might  n't  have 
no  use  for  me." 

Constance  brought  the  hair-brush,  and  letting 
Margaret's  luxuriant  hair  fall  in  heavy  masses  over 
the  back  of  the  chair,  began  another  of  her  minis- 
tries of  service. 

"  Do  you  really  want  to  go  back  to  the  Bijou  ?  " 
she  asked,  knowing  well  enough  what  the  answer 
woidd  be. 

"  You  know  you  need  n't  to  ask  that ;  it 's  just 
Pete  Grim's  place  or  something  worse.  I  can't  do 
no  different"  —  she  paused  and  the  fingers  of  her 
clasped  hands  worked  nervously  —  "  and  you  can't 
help  it.  Miss  Constance.  I  know  you  've  been  try- 
ing and  worrying  ;   but  it  ain't  no  use." 

Connie  did  not  find  words  to  reply  at  once,  but 
after  a  little  she  said :  "  TeU  me  more  about  your 
old  home,  Margaret." 

"  I  've  told  you  all  there  was  to  tell,  many  's  the 
time  since  you  found  me  with  the  fever." 

"  Let  me  see  if  I  can  remember  it.  You  said 
your  father  was  the  village    blacksmith,  and   that 


70  THE  HELPERS 

you  used  to  sit  in  the  shop  and  watch  the  sparks  fly 
from  the  anvil  as  he  worked.  And  when  his  day's 
work  was  done,  he  would  take  you  on  his  shoidder 
and  carry  you  home  to  your  mother,  who  called  you 
her  pretty  colleen,  and  loved  you  because  you  were 
the  only  girl.     And  then  "  — 

"  Oh,  dovbt !  "  There  was  sharp  anguish  in  the 
cry,  and  Margaret  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hands 
as  if  to  shut  out  the  picture.  Constance  waited 
until  she  thought  she  had  given  the  seed  time  to 
germinate.     Then  she  went  on. 

"  And  when  you  left  home  they  mourned  for  you, 
not  as  one  dead,  but  as  one  li\dng  and  still  beloved  ; 
and  as  long  as  they  could  keep  track  of  you  they 
begged  you  to  come  back  to  them.  Margaret,  won't 
you  go  ?  " 

Margaret  shook  her  head  in  passionate  negation. 
"  I  can't  —  /  cant !  that 's  the  one  thing  I  can't  do ! 
Did  n't  I  bring  them  shame  enough  and  misery 
enough  in  the  one  day  ?  and  will  I  be  going  back  to 
stir  it  all  up  again  ?  having  the  people  say, '  There  's 
Pat  Gannon's  girl  come  back  ;  she  that  went  to  the 
bad  and  broke  her  mother's  heart.'  Indeed,  I  '11 
not  do  that,  Miss  Constance,  though  the  saints  and 
the  holy  angels  '11  tell  you  I  'd  do  anything  else  you  \l 
ask." 

This  was  Connie's  happy  thought ;  to  induce 
Margaret  to  go  back  to  her  parents.  When  it 
proved  to  be  but  another  rope  of  sand,  she  allowed 
it  one  sigh  and  changed  front  so  cheerfully  that 
Margaret  never  knew  the  cost  of  the  effort. 


THE   HELPERS  71 

"  Then  we  must  try  something  else,"  she  insisted. 
"  I  'U  never  let  you  go  back  to  the  theatre  —  that 's 
settled.  You  told  me  once  you  could  trim  hats. 
Have  you  ever  done  any  other  kind  of  sewing?" 

Margaret  knelt  before  her  trunk  and  threw  out 
an  armful  of  her  stage  finery.  "  I  made  them,"  she 
said. 

Constance  examined  the  work  critically.  It  was 
good,  and  she  took  courage.  "  That  is  our  way  out 
of  the  trouble,  Margaret.  Why  did  n't  we  think  of 
it  before  ?  When  you  are  well  enough,  I  '11  get  you 
a  sewing-machine  and  find  you  all  the  work  you  can 
do." 

Margaret  went  to  the  window  and  stood  there  so 
long  that  Constance  began  to  tremble  lest  the  battle 
were  sroing-  evil  ward  at  the  last  moment.  The  fear 
was  groundless,  as  she  found  out  when  the  girl  came 
back  to  kneel  and  cry  silently  with  her  face  in  Con- 
nie's lap. 

"  It  is  n't  so  much  the  love  of  you,"  she  sobbed  ; 
"  it 's  the  knowing  that  somebody  cares  whether  the 
likes  of  me  goes  straight  to  the  devil  or  not.  And 
never  so  much  as  a  word  about  behaving  myself,  or 
confessing  to  the  priest,  or  anytliing.  Miss  Con- 
stance," —  this  with  uplifted  face,  gro^vn  suddenly 
beautiful  and  glorified  in  the  outshining  of  peni- 
tence, —  "  the  devil  may  fly  away  with  me,  —  he  did 
that  same  one  day,  —  but  if  he  does,  I  '11  not  live 
to  leave  him  have  the  good  of  it.  I  promise  you 
that." 

"  I  can  trust  you,"  said  Constance  ;  and  she  took 


72  THE   HELPERS 

her  leave  presently,  wondering  how  the  many-sided 
world  could  so  unify  itself  in  its  merciless  condem- 
nation of  the  Magdalenes. 

When  she  had  closed  Margaret's  door  behind  her 
and  was  halfway  to  the  stair,  she  heard  sounds  as 
of  a  scuffle  coming  from  a  corridor  intersecting  the 
main  hallway  at  the  landing.  Her  first  impidse  was 
to  retreat  to  Margaret  Gannon's  room  ;  but  when  she 
recognized  Tommie's  voice  uplifted  in  alternate  plea 
and  imprecation,  she  went  forward  quickly.  At  the 
turn  she  met  a  gaunt,  unshaven  man  leading  Tommie 
by  the  ear,  and  her  indignation  slipped  the  leash 
without  a  thought  of  consequences. 

"  Are  n't  you  ashamed  of  yourself  to  abuse  a 
child  like  that !  "  she  began ;  and  then  two  things 
happened :  Jeffard  released  the  boy,  and  Constance 
recognized  in  the  gaunt  figure  the  wreck  of  the  man 
whom  she  had  bidden  God-speed  on  the  stair  at  the 
Cahnaine  dancing  party. 

Jeffard  flattened  himself  against  the  wall,  bowed 
low,  and  was  about  to  apologize,  when  Tommie, 
scenting  an  accusation,  proceeded  to  vindicate  him- 
self by  exploding  a  veritable  bomb  of  consternation 
between  the  two. 

"  I  warn't  doin'  ary  single  thing.  Miss  Constance, 
'ceptin'  jest  wot  you  telled  me  to  do.  I  caught  on  to 
his  nibs  dowai  on  de  street  an'  follered  him  up  yere ; 
an'  w'en  I  was  takin'  a  squint  t'rough  de  keyhole, 
jest  to  make  sure,  he  outs  an'  nabs  me." 

For  one  dreadful  instant  Connie  thought  she  must 
scream  and  rmi  away.     Then  her  wits  came  back, 


THE   HELPERS  73 

and  she  saw  that  deliverance  could  come  only 
through  swift  confession. 

"  Tommie,"  she  said  hastily,  "  run  down  and  wait 
for  me  on  the  sidewalk."  And  then  to  Jeffard  : 
"  The  poor  boy  was  n't  to  blame ;  he  was  doing  just 
what  he  had  been  told  to  do,  and  you  have  a  right 
to  ask  — to  —  to  know  "  —  She  stopped  in  pitiable 
embarrassment,  and  Jeffard  flung  himself  into  the 
breach  with  chivalric  tact. 

"  Not  another  word,  Miss  Elliott,  1  implore  you. 
It  isn't  the  first  time  I  have  been  taken  for  my 
double,  and  in  broad  daylight  at  that.  May  I  go 
down  and  make  my  peace  with  the  boy  ?  " 

Constance  was  too  greatly  perturbed  not  to  catch 
gratefully  at  the  chance  to  escape,  and  she  made  use 
of  it  while  Jeffard  was  talking  to  Tommie  at  the 
foot  of  the  stair.  Taking  Constance's  nod  and  smile 
in  passing  as  tokens  of  amity,  the  urchin  allowed 
himself  to  be  placated  ;  and  when  Jeffard  went  back 
to  his  room  he  knew  all  that  Tommie  could  tell  him 
about  Miss  Elliott  and  her  deeds  of  mercy. 

That  night,  before  he  went  out  to  tramp  himself 
weary,  Jeffard  did  a  characteristic  thing.  He 
wrapped  his  last  five-dollar  note  around  a  bit  of 
plaster  dug  from  the  wall,  and  creeping  through  the 
corridor  in  his  stocking  feet,  tossed  the  pellet  over 
the  transom  into  Margaret  Gannon's  room. 


CHAPTER   IX 

At  the  breakfast-table  the  next  mornmg,  Constance 
had  a  shock  that  set  her  nerves  a^jangle  and  banished 
her  appetite.  The  exciting  cause  was  a  paragraph 
in  the  morning  "  Coloradoan  "  which  her  father  had 
been  reading  between  the  fruit  and  the  cereals. 

"  I  wonder  if  that  is  n't  the  fellow  Dick  was  look- 
ing for  and  could  n't  find,'  he  queried,  passmg  the 
paper  across  the  table  with  his  finger  on  the  sug- 
gestive paragi-aph. 

It  was  a  custom-hardened  account  of  a  common- 
place tragedy.  A  man  whose  name  was  given  as 
George  Jeffrey  had  shot  himself  an  hour  before 
midnight  on  one  of  the  bridges  spanning  Cherry 
Creek.  Constance  read  the  story  of  the  tragedy 
with  her  father's  remark  in  abeyance,  and  the  shock 
came  with  the  conviction  that  the  self-slain  one  was 
Jeffard,  whose  name  might  easily  become  Jeffrey  in 
the  hurried  notes  of  a  news-gatherer.  The  meagre 
particulars  tallied  accurately  with  Bartrow's  terse 
account  of  Jeffard's  sociological  experiment.  The 
suicide  was  a  late-comer  from  the  farther  East ;  he 
had  spent  his  money  in  riotous  living ;  and  he  had 
latterly  been  lost  to  those  who  knew  him  best. 

It  was  characteristic  of  Stephen  Elliott's  daughter 
that  she  passed  the  paper  back  to  her  father  without 


THE   HELPERS  75 

comment,  and  that  she  preserved  an  outward  pre- 
sentment of  cheerfulness  during  the  remainder  of 
the  meal.  But  when  she  was  free  she  ran  up  to  her 
room  and  was  seen  no  more  of  her  father  or  her 
cousin  imtil  the  latter  went  upstairs  an  hour  later  to 
see  if  Connie  were  ready  for  her  morning  walk. 

"  Why,  Connie,  dear  !     What  is  the  matter?" 

Since  her  tap  at  the  door  went  unanswered,  Myra 
had  turned  the  knob  and  entered.  Connie  was  lying 
in  a  dejected  little  heap  on  the  floor  before  the  fire- 
less  grate.  She  shook  her  head  in  dimib  protest  at 
her  cousin's  question  ;  but  when  Myra  knelt  beside 
her  it  all  came  out  brokenly. 

"  You  did  n't  see  what  poppa  gave  me  to  read :  it 
was  an  accoimt  of  a  suicide.  Mr.  JefEard  has  killed 
himself,  and  —  and,  oh,  Myra  !  it 's  all  my  fault !  " 

"  Mr.  Jeffard  ?  Oh,  I  remember  now,  —  Mr. 
Bartrow's  friend.  But  I  don't  understand ;  how 
coidd  it  have  been  your  fault  ?  " 

"  It  was,  it  was !  Don't  you  remember  what  Dick 
said  ?  that  Mr.  Jeffard  was  in  trouble,  and  that  he 
had  a  place  for  him  ?  I  saw  him  yesterday,  and  I  — 
I  did  nH  tell  Mm  !  " 

"  But,  Connie,  dear,  how  coidd  you  ?  You  did  n't 
know  him."  Getting  no  more  than  a  smothered 
sob  in  reply  to  this,  Myra  asked  for  particulars,  and 
Connie  gave  them  sparingly. 

"  You  say  the  name  was  George  Jeffrey?  Why 
do  you  think  it  was  Mr.  Jeffard  ?  I  can't  for  the 
life  of  me  see  how  you  are  to  blame,  in  the  remotest 
sense  ;  but  if  you  are,  it 's  foolish  to  grieve  over  it 


76  THE  HELPERS 

until  you  arc  quite  sure  of  the  identities.  Is  n't 
there  any  way  you  can  find  out  ?  " 

Connie  sat  up  at  that,  but  she  refused  to  be 
comforted. 

"  There  is  a  way,  and  I  '11  try  it ;  but  it 's  no  use, 
Myra.  I  'm  just  as  sure  as  if  I  had  stood  beside 
him  when  he  did  it.  And  I  shall  never,  never  for- 
give myself !  " 

She  got  up  and  bathed  her  eyes,  and  when  she 
had  made  herself  ready  to  go  out,  she  refused  Myra's 
proffer  of  company. 

"  No,  dear  ;  thank  you,  but  I  'd  rather  go  alone," 
she  objected  ;  "  I  '11  share  the  misery  of  it  with  you 
by  and  by,  perhaps,  but  I  can't  just  yet." 

Her  plan  for  making  sure  was  a  simple  one. 
Tomraie  Reagan  had  known  Jeffard  living,  and  he 
would  know  him  dead.  Putting  it  in  train,  she 
found  her  small  henchman  selling  papers  on  his 
regidar  beat  in  front  of  the  Opera  House  ;  and  inas- 
much as  he  was  crying  the  principal  fact  of  the 
tragedy,  she  was  spared  the  necessity  of  entering 
into  details. 

"  Tommie,  have  you  —  did  you  go  to  see  the  man 
who  killed  himself  last  night  ?  "  she  questioned. 

"  Nope ;  der  ain't  no  morbid  cur'osity  inside  o' 
me." 

"  Would  you  go  ? —  if  I  asked  you  to  ?  " 

"  ^Ji  cert ;  I  'd  take  a  squint  at  de  old  feller 
wid  de  hoofs  an'  horns  if  it  'd  do  you  any  good." 

"  Then  I  '11  tell  you  why  I  want  yon  to  go.  I  am 
afraid  it  is  the  man  we  were  going  to  try  to  help." 


THE   HELPERS  77 

The  boy  shut  one  eye  and  whistled  softly.  "  My 
gosh  !  but  dat  's  tough,  ain't  it  now !  An'  jest  w'en 
I  'd  got  'quainted  with  him  an'  was  a-fixin'  to  give 
him  a  lift !      Dat 's  wot  I  call  hard  luck !  " 

Constance  felt  that  the  uncertainty  was  no  longer 
to  be  borne.  "  Go  quickly,  Tommie,"  she  directed ; 
"  and  hurry  back  as  soon  as  you  can.  I  '11  wait  for 
you  in  the  drug  store  across  the  street." 

The  coroner's  office  was  not  far  to  seek,  and  the 
small  scout  was  back  in  a  few  minutes. 

"  Dey  wovddn't  lemme  look,"  he  reported,  "but  I 
skinned  round  to  where  I  coidd  see  de  top  o'  his 
head.      It 's  his  nibs,  right  'nough." 

"  Tommie  !      Are  you  quite  sure  ?  " 

"  Nope ;  feller  ain't  sure  o'  nothin'  in  dis  world, 
'ceptin'  death  an'  de  penitenchry,"  amended  Tommie, 
doing  violence  to  his  convictions  when  he  saw  that 
his  patron  saint  was  sorely  in  need  of  comfort. 
"  Maybe  't  ain't  him,  after  all.  You  jest  loaf  'round 
yere  a  couple  o'  shakes  while  I  skip  down  to  his 
hotel  an'  see  wot  I  can  dig  up." 

The  boy  was  gone  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
but  to  Constance  the  minutes  marched  leaden-footed. 
When  Tommie  returned,  his  face  signaled  discom- 
fiture. 

"  I  did  n't  send  me  card  up,"  he  explained,  with 
impish  gravity  ;  "  I  jest  went  right  up  to  his  nibsey's 
room  an'  mogged  in,  a-thinkin'  I  'd  offer  him  a  paper 
if  he  happened  to  be  there  and  kicked.  Say,  Miss 
Constance ;  't  ain't  a-goin'  ter  do  no  good  to  cry 
about  it.  He  ain't  there,  an'  he  ain't  been  there, 
'nless  he  slep'  in  a  chair." 


78  THE   HELPERS 

Constance  went  home  with  a  lump  in  her  throat 
and  her  trouble  wi-it  large  on  her  face,  and  ]\Iyra 
needed  not  to  ask  the  residt  of  the  investigation. 
Miss  Van  Vetter  was  not  less  curious  than  she 
slioidd  have  been,  but  something  in  Connie's  eyes 
forestalled  inquiry,  and  Myra  held  her  peace. 

Connie  wore  out  the  day  as  best  she  might, 
widening  the  rift  of  sorrow  until  it  bade  fair  to 
become  an  abyss  of  remorse.  When  evening  came, 
and  with  it  a  telegram  from  Bartrow,  asking  if  she 
had  yet  learned  Jeffard's  whereabouts,  it  was  too 
much,  and  she  shared  the  misery  with  her  cousin, 
as  she  had  promised  to,  making  a  clean  breast  of 
it  from  the  beginning.  Something  to  her  surprise, 
Myra  heard  her  through  without  a  word  of  condem- 
nation or  reproach. 

"  Now  that  is  something  I  can  understand,"  said 
Myra,  when  the  tale  was  told.  "The  most  of  your 
charity  work  seems  to  me  to  be  pitifuUy  common- 
place and  inconsequent ;  but  here  was  a  mission 
which  asked  for  all  sorts  of  heroism,  for  which  it 
promised  to  pay  the  highest  of  all  prices,  namely, 
the  possibility  of  saving  a  man  worth  the  trouble." 

Now  Connie  was  well  assured  that  her  love  for 
her  neighbor  was  no  respecter  of  persons,  and  she 
made  answer  accordingly. 

"  I  can't  agree  with  you  there,  ]\Iyra.  Mr.  Jef- 
fard's possible  worth  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  I 
wanted  to  help  him  because  —  well,  because  it  was 
mean  in  me  to  make  him  talk  about  himself  that 
night  at  the  opera.     And  besides,  when  I  met  him  the 


THE  HELPERS  79 

next  evening  at  Mrs.  Calraaine's,  he  told  me  enough 
to  make  me  quite  sure  that  he  needed  all  the  help 
and  encouragement  he  could  get.  Of  course,  he  did 
n't  say  anything  like  that,  you  know ;  but  I  knew." 

Myra's  eyes  promised  sympathy,  and  Connie  went 
on. 

"  Then,  when  I  came  upon  him  yesterday  I  was 
angry  because  he  was  hurting  Tommie.  And  after- 
ward, when  I  tried  to  explain,  he  made  me  under- 
stand that  I  must  n't  reach  down  to  him  ;  and  — 
and  I  did  n't  know  any  other  way  to  go  about  it." 

"  That  was  a  situation  in  which  I  should  proba- 
bly have  horrified  you,"  said  Myra  decisively.  "  I 
should  n't  have  noticed  or  known  anything  about  him 
at  first,  as  you  did ;  but  in  your  place  yesterday,  and 
with  your  knowledge  of  the  circmnstances,  I  should 
have  said  my  say  whether  he  wanted  to  hear  it  or 
not.     And  I  'd  have  made  him  listen  to  reason,  too." 

"  You  don't  quite  understand,  Myra.  It  seemed 
altogether  impossible ;  though  if  I  had  known  what 
was  in  his  mind  I  should  have  spoken  at  any  cost." 

Twenty  times  the  pendulum  of  the  chalet  clock 
on  the  wall  beat  the  seconds,  and  Myra  was  sUent ; 
then  she  crossed  over  to  Connie's  chair  and  sat  upon 
the  arm  of  it. 

"  Connie,  dear,  you  're  crying  again,"  —  this  with 
her  arm  around  her  cousin's  neck.  "  Are  you  quite 
sure  you  have  n't  been  telling  me  half  -  truths  ? 
Was  n't  there  the  least  little  bit  of  a  feeling  warmer 
than  charity  in  your  heart  for  this  poor  fellow  ?  " 

Constance  shook  her  head,  but  the  denial  did  not 


80  THE   HELPERS 

set  itself  in  words.  '■'■  He  was  Dick's  friend,  and 
that  was  enont^h,"  she  replied. 

Miss  Van  Vetter's  lips  brushed  her  cousin's  cheek, 
and  Constance  felt  a  warm  tear  plash  on  lier  hand. 
This  was  quite  another  Myra  from  the  one  she 
thought  she  knew,  and  she  said  as  much. 

"  We  're  all  puzzles,  Connie  dear,  and  the  an- 
swers to  most  of  us  have  been  lost ;  but,  do  you 
know,  I  can't  help  crying  a  little  with  you  for  this 
poor  fellow.  Just  to  think  of  him  lying  there  with 
no  one  within  a  thousand  miles  to  care  the  least 
little  bit  about  it.  And  if  you  are  right  —  if  it  is 
Mr.  Bartrow's  friend  —  it 's  so  much  the  more  piti- 
ful.    The  world  is  poorer  when  such  men  leave  it." 

"  Why,  Myra !    What  do  you  know  about  him  ?  " 

"  Nothing  more  than  you  do  —  or  as  much.  But 
surely  you  have  n't  forgotten  what  Mr.  Bartrow  told 
us." 

"  About  liis  helping  Mr.  Lansdale  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  No,  I  had  n't  forgotten." 

"  It  was  very  noble  ;  and  so  delicately  chivalrous. 
It  seems  as  if  one  who  did  such  things  would  surely 
be  helped  m  his  own  day  of  misfortune.  But  that 
does  n't  often  happen,  I  'm  afraid." 

"  No,"  Constance  assented,  with  a  sigh  ;  and  Myra 
went  back  to  the  question  of  identity. 

"  I  suppose  there  is  no  possible  chance  that  Tom- 
mie  may  have  been  mistaken  ?  " 

Constance  shook  her  head.  "  I  think  not ;  he 
saw  that    I  was   troubled  about    it,  and  he  would 


THE   HELPERS  81 

have  strained  a  point  to  comfort  me  if  the  facts  had 
given  him  leave.  But  I  shall  be  quite  sure  before 
I  answer  Dick's  message." 

With  that  thought  in  mind,  and  with  no  hope 
behind  it,  Constance  waylaid  her  father  in  the  hall 
the  next  morning  as  he  was  about  to  go  out. 

"  Poppa,  I  want  you  to  do  something  for  me  ;  no, 
not  that "  —  the  elderly  man  was  feeling  in  his 
pockets  for  his  check-book  —  "it  is  something  very 
different,  this  time ;  different  and  —  and  rather 
dreadful.  You  remember  the  suicide  you  read 
about,  yesterday  morning  ?  " 

"  Did  I  read  about  one  ?  Oh,  yes  ;  the  man  that 
shot  himself  down  on  the  Platte,  or  was  it  Cherry 
Creek?  The  feUow  I  thought  might  be  Dick's 
friend.     What  about  it  ?  " 

"  It 's  that.  We  ought  to  make  sure  of  it  for 
Dick's  sake,  you  know.  Won't  you  go  to  the 
coroner's  office  and  see  if  it  is  Mr.  Jeffard  ?  It 's  a 
horrible  thing  to  ask  you  to  do,  but "  — 

There  was  grim  reminiscence  in  the  old  pioneer's 
smile.  "  It  won't  be  the  first  one  I  've  seen  that 
died  with  his  boots  on.  I  '11  go  and  locate  your  claim 
for  you." 

She  kissed  him  good-by,  but  he  came  back  from 
the  gate  to  say  :  "  Hold  on,  here ;  i  don't  know 
your  Mr.  Jeffard  from  a  side  of  sole  leather.  How 
am  I  going  to  identify  him  ?  " 

"  You  've  seen  him  once,"  she  explained.  "  Do 
you  remember  the  man  who  sat  next  to  me  the  night 
we  went  to  hear  '  The  Bohemian  Girl '  ?  " 


82  THE   HELPERS 

"  The  thirsty  one  that  you  and  Myra  made  a  bet 
on  ?     Yes,  I  recollect  him." 

"  I  don't  think  he  was  thirsty.  Would  you  know 
him  if  you  were  to  see  him  again  ?  " 

"  I  guess  maybe  I  would  ;  I  've  seen  him  half  a 
dozen  times  since,  —  met  him  out  here  on  the  side- 
walk the  next  morning.     Is  that  your  man  ?  " 

"  That  was  Mr.  Jeffard,"  she  affirmed,  turning 
away  that  he  might  not  see  the  tears  that  welled  up 
unbidden. 

"  AH  right ;  I  '11  go  and  identify  him  for  you." 

So  he  said,  and  so  he  meant  to  do ;  but  it  proved 
to  be  a  rather  exciting  day  at  the  Mining  Ex- 
change, and  he  forgot  the  commission  until  he  was 
about  to  board  a  homeward-bound  car  in  the  even- 
incr.  Then  he  found  that  he  was  too  late.  The 
body  of  the  suicide  had  been  shipped  East  in  accord- 
ance with  telegraphic  instructions  received  at  noon. 
When  he  made  his  report  to  Constance,  she  fell  back 
upon  Tommie's  assurance,  and  sent  the  delayed 
answer  to  Bartrow's  message,  telling  him  that  his 
friend  was  dead. 

Having  sorrowfully  recorded  all  these  things  in 
the  book  of  facts  accomplished,  it  was  not  wonderful 
that  Constance,  coming  out  of  Margaret  Gannon's 
room  late  the  following  afternoon,  should  cover  her 
face  and  cry  out  in  something  akin  to  terror  when 
she  cannoned  against  Jeffard  at  the  turn  in  the 
dingy  hallway.  Neither  was  it  remarkable  that  her 
strength  should  forsake  her  for  the  moment ;  nor 
that  Jeffard,   seeing  her  plight,  should  forget  his 


THE   HELPERS  83 

degradation  and  give  her  timely  help  by  leading  her 
to  a  seat  in  the  dusty  window  embrasure.  At  that 
the  conventionalities,  or  such  shreds  of  them  as 
might  still  have  bound  either  of  them,  parted  asun- 
der in  the  midst,  and  for  the  time  being  they  were 
but  a  man  and  a  woman,  as  God  had  created  them. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  so  glad  !  "  were  her  first  words.  "I  — 
I  thought  you  were  dead  !  " 

"  I  ought  to  be,"  was  his  comment.  "  But  what 
made  you  think  that  ?  " 

"  It  was  in  the  newspaper  —  about  the  man  who 
shot  himself.  I  was  afraid  it  was  you,  and  when 
Tommie  had  been  to  see  we  were  sure  of  it." 

"  In  the  newspaper  ?  "  he  queried ;  and  then,  with 
a  ghost  of  a  smile  which  was  mirthless  :  "  It  was  a 
little  previous,  but  so  justifiable  that  I  really  ought 
to  take  the  hint.  Can't  you  tell  me  more  ?  I  'm 
immensely  interested." 

She  told  him  everything  from  the  beginning,  con- 
cluding with  a  pathetic  little  appeal  for  forgiveness 
if  she  had  done  wrong  in  taking  too  much  for 
granted. 

"You  coiddn't  well  do  that,"  he  hastened  to  say. 
"  And  you  must  n't  ask  forgiveness  for  motives 
which  an  angel  might  envy.  But  it  is  casting  pearls 
before  swine  in  my  case,  Miss  Elliott.  I  have  sown 
the  wind,  deliberately  and  with  malice  aforethought, 
and  now  I  am  reaping  the  whirlwind,  and  regretting 
day  by  day  that  it  does  n't  develop  sufficient  violence 
to  finish  that  which  it  has  begun." 

"Please  don't  say  that,"   she  pleaded.     "There 


84  THE   HELPERS 

are  always  hands  stretched  out  to  lielp  us,  if  we 
covdd  but  see  and  hiy  hold  of  them.  Why  won't 
you  let  Dick  help  you  when  he  is  so  anxious  to  do 
it?  You  will,  now  that  you  know  about  it,  won't 
you?" 

"  I  knew  about  it  before.  Lansdale  told  me,  but 
I  made  him  promise  to  drop  it.  It  is  n't  that  I 
would  n't  accept  help  from  Bartrow  as  w^llingly  as 
I  would  from  any  one  in  the  world ;  it  is  simply  that 
I  don't  care  to  take  the  chance  of  adding  ingratitude 
to  my  other  ill-doings." 

"■  Ingratitude  ?  " 

"  Yes.  The  man  who  allows  his  friend  to  help 
him  in  any  crisis  of  his  own  making  should  at  least 
be  able  to  give  bond  for  his  good  behavior.  I  can't 
do  that  now.  I  would  n't  trust  myself  to  go  across 
the  street.  I  know  my  own  potentiality  for  evil  too 
weU." 

"  But  potentiality  is  n't  evil,"  she  protested,  "  It 's 
only  the  power  to  do  things,  good  or  bad.  And  if 
one  have  that  there  is  always  hope." 

"  Not  for  me,"  he  said  shortly.  "  I  have  sinned 
against  grace." 

"  Who  has  n't  ?  "  Constance  rejoined.  "  But 
grace  does  n't  die  because  it 's  sinned  against." 

He  smiled  again  at  that.  "  I  think  my  particular 
allotment  of  grace  is  dead  beyond  the  hope  of  resur- 
rection." 

"  How  can  that  be  ?  " 

He  put  his  back  to  the  window  so  that  he  had  not 
to  look  in  her  eyes. 


THE  HELPERS  85 

"  Grace  for  most  men  takes  the  form  of  an  ideal. 
So  long  as  the  condition  to  be  attained  is  ahead 
there  is  hope,  but  when  one  has  turned  his  back 
upon  it "  — 

Indirection  fences  badly  with  open-eyed  sincerity, 
and  he  did  not  finish.  But  the  door  was  open  now, 
and  Constance  meant  to  do  her  whole  duty. 

"  I  think  I  understand,"  she  assented ;  "  but  I 
wish  you  would  be  quite  frank  with  me.  In  a  way, 
I  am  Mr.  Bartrow's  deputy,  and  if  I  have  to  tell  him 
you  refuse  to  let  him  help  you,  I  shall  have  to  give 
him  a  better  reason  than  you  have  given  me." 

"  You  are  inexorable,"  he  said,  and  there  was  love 
in  his  eyes,  despite  his  efforts  reasonward.  "  I  wish 
I  dared  tell  you  the  whole  miserable  truth." 

"  And  why  may  you  not?  " 

"  Because  it  concerns  —  a  woman." 

She  shrank  back  a  little  at  that,  and  he  saw  that 
she  had  misunderstood.  Wherefore  he  plunged 
recklessly  into  the  pool  of  frankness. 

"  The  woman  is  a  good  woman,"  he  went  on 
quickly,  "  and  one  day  not  so  very  long  ago  I  loved 
her  weU  enough  to  believe  that  I  could  win  my  way 
back  to  decency  and  uprightness  for  her  sake.  It 
was  a  mistake.  I  had  fallen  lower  than  I  knew, 
and  the  devil  came  in  for  his  own." 

Here  was  something  tangible  to  lay  hold  of  at 
last,  and  Connie  made  instant  use  of  it. 

"  Does  she  know  ?  "  she  asked. 

The  mirthless  smile  came  and  went  again.  *'  She 
thinks  she  does." 


86  thp:  helpers 

"  But  you  have  n't  told  her  all ;  is  that  it  ?  " 

"  I  have  tried  to,  but,  being  a  good  woman,  she 
can't  understand.  I  think  I  did  n't  fully  understand, 
myself ;  but  I  do  now," 

"  Is  it  so  far  beyond  reparation  ?  " 

"  It  is  indeed.  If  the  devil's  emissary  who  has 
brought  me  to  this  pass  could  be  exorcised  this 
moment  I  should  never  recover  the  lost  ground  of 
self-respect.  There  is  nothing  to  go  back  to.  If  I 
had  not  to  be  despicable  from  necessity,  I  should 
doubtless  be  so  from  choice." 

"  I  think  you  are  harder  with  yourself  than  you 
would  be  with  another.  Can't  you  begin  to  believe 
in  yourself  again?  /believe  in  you." 

"  You !  —  but  you  don't  know  what  you  are 
saying.  Miss  Elliott.  See  !  "  —  his  coat  was  but- 
toned to  the  chin,  tramp-wise,  and  he  tore  it  open 
to  show  her  the  rags  that  underlay  it  —  "•  do  you 
understand  now  ?  I  have  pawned  the  shirt  off  my 
back  —  not  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  hunger,  but  to 
feed  a  baser  passion  than  that  of  the  most  avaricious 
miser  that  ever  lived.  Do  I  make  it  plain  that  I 
am  not  worthy  of  your  sympathy,  or  of  Richard 
Bartrow's?" 

For  once  the  clear  gray  eyes  were  veiled,  and  her 
chin  quivered  a  little  when  she  spoke.  "  You  hurt 
me  more  than  I  can  tell,"  she  said. 

The  didl  rage  of  self-abasement  in  him  flamed 
into  passion  at  the  sight  of  what  he  had  done,  but 
the  bitter  speech  of  it  tarried  at  the  sound  of  a 
heavy  step  on  the  stair.     Constance  rose  from  her 


thp:  helpers  87 

seat  in  the  window  embrasure  with  a  nervous  thrill 
of  embarrassment,  but  Jeffard  relieved  her  at  once. 
There  was  a  vacant  room  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
corridor,  and  when  the  intruder  appeared  at  the 
stair-head,  Miss  Elliott  was  alone. 

She  glanced  at  the  man  as  he  passed,  and  Jeffard, 
from  his  place  behind  the  half-closed  door  of  the 
vacant  room,  saw  her  draw  back,  and  clenched  his 
hands  and  swore  softly,  because,  forsooth,  she  had 
for  some  fleeting  pulse-beat  of  time  to  breathe  the 
same  air  with  the  intruder.  For  he  knew  the  man 
as  a  purveyor  for  Peter  Grun's  house  of  dishonor ; 
a  base  thing  for  which  wholesome  speech  has  no 
name. 

What  followed  was  without  sequence.  Almost  at 
the  same  instant  the  footsteps  of  the  man  ceased  to 
echo  in  the  empty  corridor,  there  was  a  cry  half 
angry  and  half  of  terror  from  Margaret  Gannon's 
room,  and  Miss  EUiott  disappeared  from  Jeffard's 
limited  field  of  vision.  In  the  turning  of  a  leaf 
Jeffard  was  at  the  door  of  the  room  in  the  end  of 
the  corridor.  What  he  saw  and  heard  made  a  man 
of  him  for  the  moment.  Margaret  Gannon  had  evi- 
dently been  surprised  at  her  sewing-machine ;  the 
work  was  stiU  under  the  needle,  and  the  chair  was 
overturned.  Margaret  was  crouching  in  the  far- 
thest corner  of  the  room,  with  Miss  Elliott  standing 
over  her  like  a  small  guardian  angel  at  bay.  The 
nameless  one  had  his  back  to  the  door,  and  Jeffard 
heard  only  the  conclusion  of  a  jeering  insult  which 
included  both  of  the  women. 


88  THE   HELPERS 

Now  fleffai'd  had  fasted  for  twenty-four  hours, 
and  tlio  (juiek  dash  to  the  end  of  the  eorridor  made 
him  dizzy  and  faint ;  but  red  ^\Tath,  so  it  be 
fierce  enough,  is  its  own  elixir.  Tliinking  of  nothing 
but  that  he  shoukl  acquit  himself  as  a  man  before 
the  woman  he  loved,  he  flung  himself  upon  the 
contemner  of  women  with  the  vigor  of  a  righteous 
cause  singing  in  his  veins  like  the  wine  of  new  life. 

The  struggle  was  short  and  decisive.  In  his 
college  days  Jeffard  had  been  a  man  of  his  hands, 
and  the  fierce  onset  proved  to  be  the  better  half  of 
the  battle.  Constance  caught  her  breath  and  cowered 
in  the  corner  with  Margaret  when  the  two  men  went 
down  together,  but  she  gave  a  glad  little  cry  when 
she  saw  that  Jeffard  had  won  the  fall ;  that  he  had 
wrenched  the  drawn  pistol  from  the  other's  grasp 
and  flung  it  harmless  across  the  room.  Then  there 
was  another  and  a  fiercer  grapple  on  the  floor,  and 
Jeffard's  fist  rose  and  fell  like  a  blacksmith's  hammer 
with  the  dodging  head  of  his  antagonist  for  its  anvil. 

The  end  of  it  was  as  abrupt  as  the  beginning. 
In  the  midst  of  another  wrestling  bout  the  beaten 
one  freed  himself,  bounded  to  his  feet,  and  darted 
into  the  corridor  with  Jeffard  at  his  heels.  There 
was  a  sharp  scurry  of  racing  feet  in  the  hall,  a 
prolonged  crash  as  of  a  heavy  body  falling  down  the 
stair,  and  Jeffard  was  back  again,  panting  with  the 
violence  of  it,  but  with  eyes  alight  and  an  apology  on 
his  lips. 

Constance  ran  to  meet  him  and  cut  the  apology- 
short. 


THE   HELPERS  89 

"  The  idea !  "  she  protested ;  "  when  it  was  for 
Margaret's  sake  and  mine  !  Are  you  sure  you  're 
not  hurt  ?  " 

Jeffard's  knuckles  were  cut  and  bleeding,  but  he 
kept  that  hand  behind  him. 

"  It 's  the  other  fellow  who  is  hurt,  I  hope." 
Then  to  Margaret :  "  Do  you  know  him  ?  Are  you 
afraid  of  him  ?  " 

Margaret  glanced  at  Constance  and  hesitated. 
"  He  '11  not  be  troubling  me  any  more,  I  'm  thinking. 
It 's  Pete  Grim  that  sent  him  ;  and  he  was  at  me 
before  I  knew." 

Jeffard  picked  up  the  captured  weapon  and  put  it 
on  the  sewing-machme. 

"Take  that  to  him  if  he  comes  again  when  you 
are  alone.  Miss  Elliott,  please  stay  here  a  moment 
until  I  can  go  down  and  see  that  the  way  is  clear." 

He  was  gone  at  the  word,  but  he  had  barely 
reached  the  window  with  the  dusty  embrasure  when 
she  overtook  him.  There  was  a  sweet  shyness  in 
her  manner  now,  and  he  trembled  as  he  had  not  in 
any  stage  of  the  late  encounter. 

"  Mr.  Jeffard,"  she  began,  "  will  you  forgive  me 
if  I  say  that  you  have  disproved  aU  the  hard  tilings 
you  were  trying  to  say  of  yourself  ?  You  '11  let  me 
wire  Dick,  now,  won't  you?" 

He  shook  his  head  because  he  was  afraid  to  trust 
himself  to  speak.  As  between  an  abject  appeal 
with  his  hopeless  passion  for  its  motive,  and  a 
plunge  back  into  the  abyss  of  degradation  which 
would  efface  the  temptation,  there  was  nothing  "to 
choose. 


90  THE   HELPERS 

"  You  will  at  least  promise  me  that  you  will  con- 
sider it,"  she  went  on.      ''  I  ean't  ask  less." 

If  he  did  not  reply  immediately  it  was  because  he 
was  trying  to  fix  her  image  so  that  he  should  always 
be  able  to  think  of  her  just  as  she  stood,  with  the 
afternoon  sunlight  faUing  upon  her  face,  irradiating 
it  and  making  a  shimmering  haJo  of  the  red-brown 
hair  and  deej)  wells  of  the  clear  gray  eyes.  A 
vagrant  thought  came  to  him  :  that  it  was  worth 
a  descent  into  the  nether  depths  to  have  such  a 
woman  seek  him  out  and  plead  with  him  for  his 
soul's  sake.     He  put  it  aside  to  deny  her  entreaty. 

"  I  can't  promise  even  that." 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  embarrassment 
came  back  and  fought  for  holding-ground  when  she 
tried  to  bring  herself  to  do  the  thing  which  compas- 
sion suggested.  But  compassion  won ;  and  Jeff ard 
looked  on  with  a  haK-cynical  smile  when  she  took  a 
gold  coin  from  her  purse  and  offered  it  to  him. 

"  Just  for  the  present,"  she  begged,  with  a  beseech- 
ing look  which  might  have  melted  a  worse  man. 

He  took  the  money,  and  the  smile  ended  in  an 
unpleasant  laugh. 

"  You  think  I  ought  to  refuse,  and  so  I  ought ; 
as  any  man  would  who  had  a  spark  of  manhood  left 
in  him.  But  that  is  why  I  take  it ;  I  have  been 
trying  to  make  you  understand  that  I  am  not  worth 
saving.     Do  I  make  it  plain  to  you  ?  " 

"  You  make  me  very  sorry,"  she  quavered  ;  and 
because  her  sorrow  throttled  speech,  she  turned  and 
left  liim. 


CHAPTER   X 

After  Constance  had  gone,  Jeffard  had  an  ex- 
ceedingly bad  half-hour.  For  a  time  he  tramped 
up  and  down  the  deserted  corridor,  calling  himself 
hard  names  and  likening  his  latest  obliquity  to 
whatsoever  impardonable  sin  has  been  recorded 
against  the  most  incorrigible  of  mankind.  Love 
had  its  word,  also  —  outraged  love,  acknowledged 
only  to  be  openly  flouted  and  spat  upon;  for  one 
may  neither  do  violence  to  a  worthy  passion,  nor 
give  rein  to  an  unworthy,  without  paying  for  it, 
blow  for  blow.  What  would  she  think  of  him? 
What  could  she  think,  save  that  she  had  wasted  her 
sympathy  on  a  shameless  vagabond  who  had  sought 
to  palm  himself  off  on  her  and  her  friends  as  a 
gentleman  ? 

The  thought  of  it  was  stifling.  The  air  of  the 
musty  hallway  seemed  suddenly  to  grow  svdfocating, 
and  the  muffled  drumming  of  the  sewing-machine  in 
Margaret  Gannon's  room  jarred  upon  him  until  it 
drove  him  forth  to  wander  hot-hearted  and  despe- 
rate in  the  streets. 

Without  remembering  that  he  had  crossed  the 
viaduct  or  ascended  the  hill,  he  finally  found  him- 
self wandering  in  the  Highlands.  Drifting  aim- 
lessly on  beyond  the  fringe  of  suburban  houses,  he 


92  THE   HELPERS 

eaine  to  the  borders  of  a  shallow  i)oml  wliat  time  the 
sun  was  poising  for  its  plunge  behind  the  upreared 
mountain  background  in  the  west.  It  was  here, 
when  he  had  flung  himself  down  upon  the  warm 
brown  earth  in  utter  weariness  of  soul  and  body, 
that  his  good  angel  came  once  more  and  wrestled 
with  him. 

Looking  backward  he  saw  that  the  angle  of  the 
inclined  plane  had  grown  suddenly  precipitous 
within  a  fortnight.  Since  the  night  of  his  quarrel 
with  the  weU-meaning  miner,  the  baize  door  at  the 
head  of  the  carpeted  stair  had  been  closed  to  him. 
In  consequence  he  had  been  driven  to  the  lair  of 
a  less  carefully  groomed  but  more  rapacious  wild 
beast  whose  keeper  offered  his  patrons  a  choice 
between  the  more  serious  business  of  the  gaming- 
tables, and  the  lighter  diversions  of  a  variety  the- 
atre. Jeffard  had  seen  the  interior  of  the  Bijou  on 
the  earliest  of  his  mvestigative  expeditions  in  Den- 
ver, and  had  gone  away  sick  at  heart  at  the  sight  of 
it.  Wherefore  it  was  a  measure  of  the  depths  to 
which  he  had  descended  that  he  could  become  an  ha- 
bitue of  the  place,  caring  nothing  for  the  misery  and 
depravity  which  locked  arms  wdth  all  who  breathed 
its  tainted  atmosphere. 

It  was  at  the  Bijou  that  he  had  lost  the  better 
part  of  the  winnings  rescued  by  the  miner's  bit  of 
charitable  by-play  ;  and  it  was  there,  also,  that  he 
had  thrown  away  the  major  portion  of  a  second  gift 
from  Lansdale.  For  two  nights  in  succession  the 
lack  of  money  had  kept  him  away. 


THE   HELPERS  93 

He  took  out  Connie's  offering  and  stared  at  it 
with  lack-lustre  eyes.  With  heedful  manipulation 
here  was  the  fuel  to  feed  the  fire  of  his  besetting 
passion  for  some  hours.  Having  permitted  her  to 
give  and  himself  to  take  it,  why  should  he  quib- 
ble at  the  manner  of  its  spending  ?  When  he  saw 
that  hesitancy  implied  another  attempt  to  turn  back 
at  the  eleventh  hour,  he  felt  that  this  was  no  longer 
possible.  Try  as  he  might,  the  shame  of  this  last 
infamous  thing  would  reach  out  and  drag  him  back 
into  the  mire. 

The  alternative  disposed  of,  the  matter  simplified 
itself.  He  had  only  to  determine  whether  he  should 
end  it  all  before  or  after  he  had  flung  away  this  bit 
of  yellow  metal.  The  decision  was  so  nicely  bal- 
anced that  he  let  it  turn  upon  the  flipping  of  the 
coin  —  heads  for  a  sudden  plunge  into  the  pond, 
tails  for  a  final  bout  with  chance  and  the  plunge 
afterward. 

He  spun  the  gold  piece,  and  went  down  on  his 
hands  and  knees  to  read  the  oracle  in  the  fading 
light.  It  was  the  misshapen  eagle  that  stared  back 
at  him  from  the  face  of  the  coin,  and  he  took  his 
reprieve  sullenly,  calling  his  evil  genius  a  usurer. 

He  got  upon  his  feet  stiffly  and  turned  liis  face 
toward  the  city.  Then  it  occurred  to  him  that  it 
would  be  well  to  make  his  preparations  while  he 
could  see.  There  was  a  house  building  on  the  little 
knoU  above  the  pond ;  a  brick  and  the  binding- 
string  from  a  bundle  of  lath  would  serve  ;  and  when 
he  had   secured  them  he   sounded  the  pond  around 


{14  THE   HELPERS 

tlie  edges  ^\itli  a  stick.  It  was  too  shallow  ;  but 
from  a  i)laiik  thrown  across  to  the  head  of  the 
drainage  flume  it  proved  deep  enough,  and  here  he 
left  the  brick  and  the  bit  of  tarred  twine. 

Half  an  hour  later  he  entered  the  Bijou.  On  the 
threshold  he  met  the  proprietor ;  and  when  he  would 
have  passed  with  a  nod,  Grim  balred  the  way. 

"  Been  layin'  for  you,"  announced  the  man  of  vice, 
sententiously.      "  Come  into  the  box-office." 

Jeffard  obeyed  mechanically.  Pie  was  in  the 
semi-stupor  which  anticipates  the  delirium  of  the 
gaming  fever,  and  the  man's  voice  soiuided  afar  off. 
Grim  led  the  way  behind  the  bar  to  a  windowless 
den  furnished  with  a  roU-top  desk  and  two  chairs. 
Closmg  the  door,  he  waved  Jeffard  to  a  seat. 

"  Been  sort  o'  sizin'  you  up  lately,  and  I  j)ut  it  up 
that  you  're  out  o'  luck.     Does  that  call  the  turn  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  how  that  concerns  you,"  said  Jef- 
fard, with  a  sudden  access  of  dull  resentment. 

"  No  more  do  I ;  but  that 's  neither  here  nor 
yonder.     You  're  down  on  your  luck,  ain't  you  ?  " 

Jeffard  nodded.     "  Call  it  that,  if  you  like." 

"  Thought  so.   Broke  most  of  the  time,  I  reckon  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  most  of  the  time." 

"  Jes'  so.  Well,  I  'm  goin'  to  put  you  on  to  a  soft 
snap.  I  know  all  about  you  —  who  you  are,  where 
you  come  from,  and  all  the  rest.  You  've  been 
playin'  to  lose  right  along,  and  now  I  'ni  goin'  to 
give  you  a  tip  so  you  can  play  to  win  ever'  time. 
See?" 

Jeffard  came  out  of  his  abstraction  sufficiently  to 


THE   HELPERS  95 

wonder  what  the  man  was  driving  at.  "  Make  it 
short,"  he  rejoined  curtly. 

Grim  leaned  back  in  his  pivot-chair,  and  his  hard 
face  wrinlded  under  an  evil  smile. 

"  Don't  be  in  a  rush.  Game  runs  all  night,  and 
you  '11  have  plenty  of  time  to  go  and  blow  in  what- 
ever you  've  got  after  I  get  tln^ough  with  you.  Or, 
if  you  can't  wait,  go  and  blow  it  first,  and  we  '11 
talk  business  afterwards." 

"  No,"  Jeffard  objected  sullenly.  "  If  you  have 
anything  to  say  to  me,  say  it  now." 

"  Business  before  pleasure,  eh  ?  All  right ;  here 's 
the  lay-out.  I  'm  goin'  to  stake  you  with  a  suit  o' 
good  clothes,  pay  your  board  at  the  Albany  or  the 
Brown,  whichever  you  like,  and  give  you  a  roll  to 
flash  up  that  '11  make  you  feel  flush  ever'  time  you 
look  at  it.      Then  "  — 

Jeffard' s  gesture  was  of  impatience. 

"  Never  mind  about  the  details.  What  is  the 
price  of  all  this?  " 

"  Mighty  nigh  nothin'  at  all.  You  had  plenty  o' 
friends  a  while  back,  and  you  '11  have  'em  again,  as 
soon  as  you  're  flush.  And  when  any  of  'em  feel 
like  proddin'  the  tagger,  why  —  you  know  where 
he  's  kep' ;  that 's  all." 

While  one  might  draw  a  breath  there  was  murder 
in  Jeffard's  heart ;  in  his  weakness  a  rage  that  was 
childish  in  its  vehemence  took  possession  of  him, 
and  he  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  to  crush 
back  the  hot  tears  of  impotence  which  sprang  up 
and    blinded    him.     Grim    looked    on    unpityingiy, 


96  THE   HELPERS 

waiting  for  wliat  he  conceived  to  be  the  ine^^tal)le. 
When  Jcrtard  struj^gled  to  his  feet,  his  face  was 
white  and  he  had  to  steady  liiniseK  by  the  back  of 
the  chair. 

"  I  thonght  I  'd  got  to  the  bottom  when  I  came 
here  to-night,"  he  began  unsteadily,  "  but  you  've 
shown  me  my  mistake.  Thank  God,  I  can  yet  say 
No  to  you,  low  as  I  am.     Let  me  get  out  of  here." 

Knowing  the  strength  of  the  gambler's  chain,  as 
well  as  the  length  thereof,  Grim  held  his  peace  ;  and 
Jeffard  pushed  past  the  bar-tender  and  went  out 
through  the  small  door  at  the  end  of  the  bar.  On 
the  sidewalk  a  crowd  beset  the  theatre  entrance,  and 
out  of  the  midst  of  it  came  two  men,  striking  and 
clutching  at  each  other  as  they  fought  their  way 
into  the  clear.  Within  arm's  -  length  of  Jeffard 
they  separated.  He  saw  the  sheen  of  the  electric 
light  on  a  weapon,  and  darted  between  them  in  time 
to  spoil  the  aim  of  the  man  who  drew  first.  There 
was  a  flash  and  a  report,  a  rush  on  the  part  of  the 
crowd,  and  JefPard  found  himself  dodging  and 
doubling  swiftly  through  dark  alleys  and  crooked 
covered  ways,  following  the  lead  of  the  man  whose 
life  he  had  saved.  After  a  time  they  came  out  in  a 
silent  street  where  there  was  light. 

"Didn't  know  me,  did  you,  pardner?"  quoth 
the  fugitive,  relaxing  his  grasp  on  Jeffard's  wrist. 
"  Like  as  not  you  would  n't  'a'  done  it  if  you  had, 
but  that  don't  saw  no  wood  with  me.  That  gi-easer 
had  the  drop  on  me,  sure  's  yer  born." 

Whereupon  Jefifard  looked  again,  and  recognizing 


THE   HELPERS  97 

his  friendly  enemy  of  the  winning  night,  was  glad, 
inasmuch  as  he  had  been  able  to  cancel  an  obli- 
gation. None  the  less,  his  reply  was  ungracious 
enough. 

"  Oh,  it 's  you,  is  it  ?  Well,  we  're  quits  now. 
Good-night." 

He  turned  and  walked  away,  but  at  the  corner  the 
man  overtook  him.  "Not  that-a-way,"  he  forbade, 
pointing  up  the  street.  "  Somebody  in  the  crowd  '11 
be  sure  to  know  you,  and  you  '11  walk  slap  back  into 
trouble  after  I  done  drug  you  out.  The  p'lice  are 
there  by  this  time,  an'  they  don't  care  who,  so  they 
get  a  man  'r  two  to  lock  up." 

Jeffard  nodded,  and  made  a  circuit  of  the  dan- 
gerous locality  with  his  head  up  and  the  light  of  a 
steadfast  purpose  in  liis  eyes.  Whatever  of  vacilla- 
tion there  was  in  him  an  hour  earlier  had  been  thor- 
oughly flailed  out  in  the  brief  interview  with  Peter 
Grim.  He  knew  now  what  he  had  to  do,  and  the 
precise  manner  of  its  doing. 

Keeping  to  the  quieter  streets,  he  came  out  in 
front  of  the  St.  James ;  and  dodging  the  crowded 
lobby,  made  his  way  to  the  writing-room.  Since  he 
dare  not  go  to  the  clerk  for  stationery,  he  was  com- 
pelled to  wait  imtil  some  one  left  what  he  required. 
The  chance  befell  presently,  but  when  he  came  to 
write  his  note  to  Constance  Elliott  tlie  thing  was 
harder  to  do  than  he  had  prefigured  it.  What  he 
finally  wrote,  after  he  had  spoiled  two  of  the  tlu'ee 
sheets  of  paper  left  by  his  predecessor  in  the  chair 
at  the  writing-table,  was  this  :  — 


98  THE   HELPERS 

"  After  wliat  lia])pt'ii«Hl  this  aftei-noon,  you  will 
uot  thiuk  worse  of  lue  if  I  ask  you  to  let  me  try  to 
ex])lain  what  must  seem  to  you  too  despicable  to  be 
remembered.  I  can't  hope  to  make  you  understand 
without  being  frank,  and  when,  at  some  future  time, 
you  may  learn  the  circumstances  under  which  this  is 
written,  I  shall  hope  for  forgiveness. 

"  You  may  remember  that  I  said  I  could  n't  tell 
you  the  truth,  because  it  concerns  a  woman.  When 
I  add  that  the  woman  is  yourself,  you  will  under- 
stand. I  love  you  ;  I  think  I  have  been  loving  you 
ever  since  that  evening  which  you  said  we  were  to 
forget  —  the  evening  at  the  theatre.  Strangely 
enough,  my  love  for  you  is  n't  strong  in  the  strength 
which  saves.  I  went  from  you  that  night  when  you 
had  bidden  me  God-speed  at  Mrs.  Calmaine's,  and 
within  the  hour  I  was  once  more  a  penniless  vaga- 
bond. 

"  When  3^ou  were  trying  to  help  me  this  after- 
noon, I  was  trying  to  keep  from  saying  that  which  I 
could  never  have  a  right  to  say.  You  pressed  me 
very  hard  in  your  sweet  innocence  and  lo\ang  sym- 
pathy, —  you  see,  I  am  quite  frank,  —  and  when  you 
finally  gave  me  a  chance  to  make  the  impossible 
thing  that  I  longed  to  say  still  more  impossible,  I 
took  it  in  sheer  desperation.  Nay,  more ;  I  pur- 
posed in  my  heart  to  so  desecrate  your  gift  as  to 
make  the  thought  of  my  love  for  you  an  imhallowed 
memory. 

"That  is  all,  I  think,  save,  when  it  came  to  the 
brink,  I  found  that  there  was  still  a  deeper  depth 


thp:  helpers  99 

wliicli  was  yet  unplumbed,  and  which  I  trust  I  shall 
have  the  courage  to  leave  unexplored." 

When  it  was  finished  he  wrapped  the  gold  piece 
in  a  bit  of  paper,  and,  putting  it  in  the  envelope 
with  the  note,  set  out  to  find  the  house  in  CoKax 
Avenue.  Having  seen  it  but  once,  and  that  in  day- 
light, it  was  not  singular  that  it  eluded  him  in  the 
night ;  but  it  was  surely  the  very  irony  of  chance 
which  led  hun  to  slip  the  envelope  under  the  front 
door  of  a  house  two  squares  beyond  that  occupied 
by  the  Elliotts,  and  which  kept  him  from  noticing 
the  placard  "  For  Rent "  nailed  upon  the  very  door 
under  which  he  thrust  his  message  to  Constance. 

This  single  preliminary  set  in  order,  he  faced 
once  more  toward  the  Higlilands,  lagging  a  little 
from  sheer  weariness  as  he  went,  but  finding  com- 
fort in  the  thought  that  there  would  be  infinite  sur- 
cease from  hunger  and  exhaustion  at  the  end  of  this 
last  pilgrimage. 

There  was  tune  for  reflection  on  the  way,  and  he 
marvelled  that  his  thoughts  dwelt  so  persistently 
upon  the  trivial  details  of  the  thing  he  was  about  to 
do.  He  was  a  practiced  swimmer  ;  would  the  weight 
of  a  single  brick  be  sufficient  to  overcome  the  in- 
stinct of  self-preservation  wliich  might  assert  itself 
at  the  last  moment?  Probably,  since  he  was  weak 
from  fasting,  and  would  be  encumbered  with  his 
clothing.  Then  another  suggestion  came  to  torment 
him  :  If  he  should  tie  the  brick  to  his  feet,  as  he 
had  thought  to,  the  water  might  not  be  deep  enough, 
after  all.      Consequently,  he  must  fasten  it  about 


100  THE   HELPERS 

his  neck.  And  tlicrcupon  he  had  a  fit  of  creeping 
horror  at  the  thought  of  drowning  with  his  face 
dragged  down  into  the  ooze  and  shme  of  the 
bottom. 

Otldly  enougli,  when  he  came  to  the  brink  of  the 
pool  these  things  ceased  to  trouble  him  ;  though  even 
there  it  was  impossible  to  turn  the  current  of  thought 
into  a  reflective  channel.  He  made  the  effort  for 
decency's  sake.  It  was  not  meet  that  a  thinking 
being  should  go  out  of  life  like  the  brutes  that 
perish ;  without  a  thought  for  the  past  with  its  lacks 
and  havings,  or  the  future  with  its  untried  possi- 
bilities. But  the  effort  returned  to  him  void,  and 
presently  he  stumbled  upon  the  reason :  the  premed- 
itated fact  of  self-murder  shut  him  off  alike  from 
repentance  for  what  had  gone  before,  and  from  hope 
in  what  should  come  after. 

Very  good,  he  said ;  and  flung  himself  dowii  to 
make  the  most  of  the  present.  He  was  faint  and 
weary,  and  it  would  be  ill  to  drown  a  tired  body. 
There  was  no  moon,  but  the  midsummer  night  was 
clear  and  still.  The  stars  burned  steadily  overhead, 
and  there  was  a  soft  light  abroad  which  seemed  to 
be  a  part  of  the  atmosphere.  Over  in  the  west  the 
black  bulk  of  the  range  rose  up  to  meet  the  sky ; 
and  poised  above  one  of  the  highest  peaks  the  planet 
Mars  swung  to  its  setting.  Jeffard  marked  it,  say- 
ing it  should  be  his  executioner  ;  that  when  the  rosy 
point  of  light  should  touch  the  black  sky-Hne,  he 
would  rise  up  and  go  to  his  place. 

Meanwhile   it  was  soothing  to   lie   stretched    out 


THE   HELPERS  101 

upon  the  warm  earth  with  no  human  tirtme  co  pre- 
figure, and  no  past  insistent  enough  to  disturb  one 
with  its  annals.  And  there  was  still  the  present, 
with  its  soft  light  and  its  dim  hemisphere  of  sky  ; 
its  balmy  air  and  its  vague  and  shadowy  horizon. 
It  was  good  to  be  alone  with  nature  in  these  last 
few  moments  ;  to  have  done  with  the  tiresome  world 
of  man's  marring ;  to  be  quit  of  man's  presence. 

The  thought  had  scarcely  shaped  itself  when  it 
was  made  of  none  effect  by  the  appearance  of  a  man 
at  the  top  of  the  little  knoll.  The  intruder  came 
straight  on,  as  if  in  no  doubt  as  to  his  purpose,  and 
sitting  down  on  the  end  of  the  plank  bridge,  pro- 
ceeded to  fill  and  hght  his  pipe  without  saying  a 
word.  Jeffard  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  bearded  face 
by  the  flare  of  the  match,  and  said,  "  Oh,  it 's  you 
again,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Right  you  are,  pardner.  Hope  I  ain't  in- 
trudin'." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  as  good  a  right  here  as  I 
have.  But  I  might  suggest  that  the  night  is  fine 
and  the  world  large,  and  that  there  are  times  when 
a  man  has  no  use  for  his  fellows." 

The  new-comer  smoked  in  silence  for  a  full  minute 
before  he  removed  his  pipe  to  say  :  — 

"  That 's  a  sort  of  a  gilt-edged  in\atation  for  me 
to  mog  off,  ain't  it  ?  All  right ;  I  11  go  pretty 
middlin'  quick ;  but  I  've  been  fool  enough  to  tramp 
somewheres  nigh  ten  mile  behind  you  to-night  for  to 
get  a  show  to  say  what 's  on  my  mind  ;  wher'fore, 
I  '11  say  it  first  and  vamoose  afte'wards." 


102 '    .     THE   HELPERS 

•  ftoftard  g'aVe 'fiim  leave,  watching  the  narrowing 
margin  between  the  star  and  the  mountain-top. 

"  Well,  b'iled  down,  it 's  just  about  this :  I  know 
what  you  're  out  yere  for,  —  seen  it  in  your  eye  back 
yonder  on  the  street  corner,  —  but  I  says  to  myself, 
'  Jim  Garvin,  you  go  kinder  slow ;  it  ain't  none 
o'  your  business.  When  a  man  takes  a  mill-run  o' 
hisself  and  finds  out  the  claim  ain't  worth  workin' 
no  longer,  w'y,  it 's  his  funeral,  and  none  o'  yourn.' 
And  then  again  I  says  to  myself,  '  Maybe  that  there 
feller  hain't  got  nary  'nother  claim  —  leastwise,  not 
as  he  knows  of,'  and  so  I  follered  you,  all  over  the 
blame'  town  and  out  yere." 

Jeffard  made  no  reply,  and  the  intruder  went  on. 

"  'Course,  you  understand  I  ain't  a-mixin'  up  any 
in  your  business,  not  if  1  know  it.  You  just  listen 
at  what  I  'm  goin'  to  say,  and  then  if  you  want  to 
go  ahead,  w'y,  all  right,  do  it ;  and  I  '11  loan  you 
my  gun  so  't  you  won't  have  to  get  yourself  wet  in 
cold  water.      Is  that  about  right?" 

"  Go  on,"  said  Jeffard. 

"  Well,  it 's  this-a-way  ;  I  'm  off  on  a  prospectin' 
tower  to-morrow.  Blowed  in  ever'  last  thing  I  had, 
and  took  a  grub-stake,  same  as  heretofore.  Now 
the  old  man  that  puts  u])  the  grub-stake,  he  says, 
says  he,  '  Jim,  you  '11  want  a  pardner.  It 's  gettin' 
pretty  late  in  the  season,  and  you  won't  stand  no 
kind  of  a  chance  goin'  alone.'  '  Right  you  are,'  says 
I, '  and  I  '11  pick  up  some  feller  on  the  range  as  I  go 
in.'  '  Good  enough,'  says  he.  '  I  11  make  this  here 
order  big  enough  to  stake  the  two  of  you.'     That 's 


THE   HELPERS  103 

the  whole  lay-out,  and  you  're  the  pardner,  i£  you 
say  the  word.  You  don't  know  beans  ahout  me, 
and  I  don't  Icnow  you  from  Adam's  off  ox,  so  that 's 
a  stand-off.     What  do  you  say  ?  " 

Jeffard  did  not  answer  until  there  was  but  a  bare 
thread  of  sky  between  the  star  and  the  peak.  Then 
he  said :  "  Do  you  happen  to  have  a  coin  of  any 
kind  about  you  ?  " 

Garvin  tossed  a  dollar  across  to  him,  and  Jeffard 
spun  it.  Then  he  found  that  he  had  no  match,  and 
asked  the  miner  to  give  him  one.  Garvin  watched 
him  curiously  as  he  bent  over  the  coin  and  struck 
the  match. 

"  The  luck  's  against  me  —  it 's  heads,"  he  an- 
nounced gravely.     "  I  '11  go  with  you." 

Garvin  rose  and  stretched  himself  stiffly. 

"  You  're  a  cool  one,"  he  commented.  "  What  if 
it  'd  been  tails  ?  " 

Jeffard  got  up  and  kicked  the  brick  into  the 
pond.  "  In  that  case  I  should  have  been  obliged  to 
ask  you  to  lend  me  your  pistol.  Let 's  go  back  to 
town  and  get  something  to  eat  with  that  dollar.  I 
have  n't  had  anything  since  last  night." 


CHAPTER   XI 

After  toiling  all  night  through  black  gorges  and 
over  unspeakable  mountain  passes,  the  narrow-gauge 
train  from  Denver,  headed  by  two  pygmy  locomo- 
tives, came  out  into  daylight,  sunsliine,  and  wider 
horizons  at  Alta  Vista.  In  the  sleeping-car  three 
sections  had  been  transformed  by  the  drowsy  porter 
into  daytime  smugness,  and  three  persons  —  two  of 
them  in  deference  to  the  enthusiasm  of  the  third  — 
were  up  and  di-essed. 

"  Is  n't  it  all  perfectly  indescribable  ? "  Myra 
was  saying,  when  the  engineer  of  one  of  the  pyg- 
mies soimded  the  whistle  for  the  station.  "  Do  you 
know,  I  could  n't  go  to  sleep  for  hours  last  night, 
late  as  it  was.  I  put  up  the  window  curtain  and 
piled  the  piUows  in  the  corner  so  I  could  look  out. 
The  sky  was  like  a  great  inverted  bowl  lined  wdth 
black  velvet  and  spangled  with  diamonds,  circling 
around  us  as  we  darted  around  the  curves.  And 
in  the  open  places  there  was  always  a  solemn  pro- 
cession of  cliffs  and  peaks,  marching  with  us  some- 
times, and  then  turning  to  slip  past  again  when  the 
bowl  whirled  the  other  way.     Oh,  but  it  was  grand !  " 

"  I  'm  glad  it  lays  hold  of  you,"  said  Connie,  who 
was  loyally  jealous  for  the  scenic  renown  of  her 
native  Colorado.     "  Now  you  know  why  I  woidd  n't 


THE   HELPERS  105 

let  you  go  on  any  of  those  breathless  little  one-day 
excursions  from  Denver.  They  just  take  you  up  in 
a  balloon,  give  you  a  ghnapse  while  you  gasp,  and 
drop  you  without  a  parachute.  The  toui'ist  people 
all  make  them,  you  know,  —  it 's  in  the  itinerary, 
with  a  coupon  in  the  cute  little  morocco-bound  book 
of  tickets,  —  and  they  come  back  wild-eyed  and 
despei'ate,  and  go  without  their  suppers  to  scribble 
incoherent  notes  about  the  '  Cache  la  Platte  '  and 
'  Clear  Poudre  Canyon,'  and  other  ridiculous  things. 
It  would  be  funny  if  it  was  n't  so  exasperating." 

Myra  nodded.  "  I  'm  beginning  to  '  savez,'  as 
Mr.  Bartrow  would  say.  By  the  way,  is  n't  this 
the  place  where  he  was  to  meet  us  ?  —  Why,  yes ; 
there  he  is  now !  "  She  waved  her  hand  and  strug- 
gled with  the  window-latch  as  the  train  drew  up  to 
the  platform. 

He  was  with  them  in  a  moment,  carrying  a  towel- 
covered  basket,  and  a  tin  coffee-pot  which  he  waved 
gingerly  by  way  of  salutation. 

"  The  top  o'  the  morning  to  you  aU,"  he  said, 
beaming  genially.  "  I  was  afraid  you  woidd  n't  be 
up,  and  then  my  hot  coffee  would  be  cold  coffee, 
and  I  'd  get  myself  disliked."  Then  to  the  drowsy 
porter :  "  John,  you  scoundrel,  get  us  a  table  be- 
fore I  break  you  in  two  and  throw  you  out  of  the 
window." 

The  table  was  promptly  forthcoming,  and  Myra 
made  room  in  the  narrow  seat  for  Bartrow. 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  begged,  laughing,  "  I  'd  like  to, 
but  I  can't      Somebody  's  got  to  stand  up  and  do 


106  THE   HELPERS 

the  swinc^-raok  act  with  this  coffee-pot.  Just  unload 
that  basket,  will  you,  Elliott,  and  I  '11  play  head 
waiter  while  you  set  the  table." 

The  breakfast  was  good,  and  there  was  a  most 
astonishing  variety.  Moreover  the  coffee  rose  to  a 
dejrree  of  excellence  which  more  than  atoned  for  the 
admixture  of  condensed  milk  in  lieu  of  cream,  and 
for  the  slight  resinous  taste  imparted  by  the  new  tin 
cups.     Bartrow  apologized  for  the  cups. 

"  You  see,  I  left  the  mine  lather  middling  early 
this  morning,  and  packed  things  in  a  hurry.  When 
I  was  making  the  coffee  over  Jim  Brjant's  stove 
here  at  Alta  Vista,  it  struck  me  all  at  once  that  I  'd 
forgotten  the  cups.  The  train  was  in  sight,  and 
Jim  had  only  one,  and  that  had  n't  been  washed  for 
a  month  of  Sundays.  Maybe  you  think  1  was  n't 
stampeded  for  about  a  minute." 

Connie  laughed.  "  I  suppose  you  went  out  and 
robbed  somebody." 

"  That 's  what  I  did  ;  made  a  break  for  the  store, 
and  found  it  locked  up,  of  course.  I  had  to  smash 
a  window  to  get  what  I  wanted." 

"  Why,  you  lawless  man !  "  protested  Myra,  trying 
to  make  room  on  the  narrow  table  for  the  contents 
of  the  inexhaustible  basket.  "  Where  in  the  world 
did  you  get  such  a  variety  of  things  ?  " 

"  Canned  goods,"  Connie  cut  in  maliciously  ;  "  all 
canned  goods,  put  out  in  dishes  so  you  won't  be 
reminded  of  the  tinny  taste.  Everybody  lives  on 
canned  goods  in  the  mountains." 

"  Connie,  you  make  me  tired,"  Bartrow  retorted, 


THE  HELPERS  107 

bracing  himself  as  the  tram  whisked  around  a  sharp 
curve.  "  Just  dig  a  little  deeper  and  get  out  that 
platter  of  trout ;  they  've  never  seen  the  inside  of  a 
can." 

"  Never  mind  what  Connie  says ;  she  is  n't  re- 
sponsible," said  Myra.  "  The  breakfast  is  just  as 
good  as  it  can  be.  Besides,  you  know  you  promised 
us  that  we  should  live  just  as  you  do  if  we  'd  visit 
the  Little  Myriad.  I  wish  you  'd  put  that  coffee-pot 
on  the  floor  and  sit  down  with  us." 

Bartrow  tried  it,  and  found  it  possible ;  after 
which  the  talk  became  general  and  cheerful  over  the 
resinous  coffee  cups  and  the  lurching  dishes.  In  a 
lull  Elliott  asked  how  the  Little  Myriad  was  going 
on. 

"  Good  enough  for  anybody,"  rejoined  Bartrow, 
with  enthusiasm  alert.  "  Lead  opens  out  better 
every  day,  and  we  're  in  only  about  seventy-five 
feet." 

"  No  pay-dirt  yet,  of  course,"  said  the  older  man. 

"  Well,  hardly  ;  not  yet.  I  'm  figuring  on  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  feet  of  development  work  at  the  very 
least  before  we  begin  to  take  out  pay." 

"  Mr.  Bartrow,  don't  you  remember  that  another 
thing  you  promised  was  that  you  woiddn't  talk 
mineral-English  before  me  without  exjDlaining  it  ?  " 
M}Ta  broke  in.  "I  want  to  know  "  —  An  un- 
expected plunge  of  the  car  made  her  grasp  at  the 
coffee  cup,  and  Connie  slipped  deftly  into  the  break. 

"  And  it  shall  know,  bless  its  inquisitive  little 
soul!     It  shall  be  stuffed  with  information  like  a  fat 


108  THE   HELPERS 

little  pillow  with  feathers.  But  not  here,  cuzzy 
dear.  Wait  till  we  're  on  the  ground,  and  then  I  '11 
go  off  out  of  hearing,  and  Dick  may  turn  himself 
into  a  iilossary,  or  an  intelligence  office,  or  a  per- 
sonal conductor,  or  anything  else  you  'd  like  to  have 
him." 

Bartrow  looked  unspeakable  things,  and  put  dowiv 
his  knife  and  fork  to  say,  "  Connie,  you  're  a  — 
a  "  — 

"  Brute,  Dickie ;  say  it  right  out,  and  dou't  spare 
nie  on  Myi-a's  account.  She  rather  enjoys  it ;  she 
loves  to  hear  people  abuse  me." 

"  Connie,  you  are  perfectly  incorrigible,"  said 
Myra  severely.  "  With  your  poor  people  you  are 
an  angel  of  light,  but  with  your  friends  "  — 

"  I  'm  an  angel  of  darkness.  That 's  right,  cuzzy 
dear ;  pile  it  on,  I  'm  young  and  strong.  Poppa, 
cari't  you  think  of  something  mean  to  say  about  me  ? 
Do  try,  please." 

Bartrow  grinned ;  and  EUiott,  who  knew  his 
daughter's  vagaries  and  delighted  in  them,  laughed 
outright.  Constance  made  a  face  across  the  table 
at  her  cousin,  and  said,  "Now  talk  mines,  if  you 
can." 

"  I  shall,"  asserted  Myi*a  calmly.  "  ]\Ir.  Bartrow, 
how  did  you  ever  come  to  call  your  mine  the  '  Little 
Myriad '  ?  " 

If  the  bottom  had  suddenly  dropped  out  of  his 
coffee  cup,  Bartrow  could  not  have  been  more  dis- 
concerted. Constance,  who  was  in  his  secret, 
laughed  gleefully,  and  clapped  her  hands. 


THE   HELPERS  109 

"  Tell  her,  Dick ;  tell  her  all  about  it.  If  you 
don't  I  shaU." 

Bartrow  stammered  and  stumbled  until  Connie 
went  into  ecstasies  of  mischievous  delight.  After 
two  or  three  heljDless  beginnings,  he  said,  rather 
tamely,  "  I  thought  it  was  a  pretty  name." 

"  But  it 's  so  odd  ;  a  myriad  is  many,  and  a  mine 
is  only  one." 

"  Oh,  the  meaning  did  n't  have  anything  to  do 
with  it,"  rejoined  Bartrow,  going  straight  to  his  own 
discomfiture  with  refreshing  candor.  "  It  was  the 
—  the  suggestion  ;  the  similarity  ;  the  —  By  Jove ! 
we  're  there  at  last ;  this  is  the  mine  switch." 

The  exclamation  was  a  heartfelt  thanksgiving, 
and  in  the  confusion  of  debarking  the  perilous  topic 
was  safely  eluded.  It  was  a  sharp  climb  of  some 
distance  from  the  railway  track  to  the  mine,  and 
Elliott  developed  unsuspected  reserves  of  tact  by 
leading  the  way  with  Miss  Van  Vetter,  leaving  Bar- 
trow to  follow  with  Constance.  When  they  had 
lagged  sufficiently  behind  the  others,  and  were  yet 
out  of  earshot  of  the  men  who  were  following  with 
the  luggage,  Bartrow  went  back  to  the  unexploded 
petard. 

"  Connie,  you  've  just  got  to  help  me  out  now," 
he  declared.  "  What  shall  I  tell  her  if  she  tackles 
me  again  ?  " 

"  Tell  her  the  truth." 

"I  don't  dare  to." 

"  Then  tell  her  a  fib.  But  no  —  on  second 
thought  I  should  n't  do  that,  if  I  were  you ;  you  'd 


no  THE  HELPERS 

only  make  a  mess  of  it.  I  '11  tell  you  what  to  do : 
just  fight  shy  of  it  till  I  can  get  her  to  myself.  I 
promise  you  she  '11  never  ask  you  about  the  Little 
Myriad's  christening  again  as  long  as  she  lives." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Bartrow,  with  the  air  of  a  re- 
prieved criminal ;  and  then  dubiously :  "  See  here, 
Connie,  how  are  you  going  to  do  it?  No  monkey 
business,  you  know." 

"  Not  a  single,  solitary  monkey,"  she  answered  so 
soberly  that  Bartrow  forgot  his  suspicions,  and 
plunged  into  another  subject  which  was  also  near 
to  his  heart. 

"  About  JefPard ;  how  did  you  come  to  think  he 
had  shot  himself  ?  " 

"  It  was  only  one  of  those  suppositions  you  think 
you  have  verified  when  you  've  only  been  plapng 
blind-man's  buff  with  it.  The  similarity  of  names 
misled  me  at  first." 

*"•  But  afterward  you  merely  wired  that  you  were 
mistaken.     Was  that  another  supposition  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ;  I  saw  him  and  talked  with  him." 

"The  mischief  you  did  I  What  did  he  have  to 
say  for  himself  ?  " 

"  Not  much  that  will  bear  repeating.  I  'm  too 
sorry  for  him  to  want  to  talk  about  it,  Dick." 

Bartrow  wondered,  and  kept  his  wonder  to  him- 
self. What  he  said  was  m  the  nature  of  worldly 
wisdom. 

"Jeffard'll  come  out  all  right  in  the  end.  He's 
as  obstinate  as  a  pig,  but  that 's  the  only  swinish 
thing    about    him.     I  'm    afraid   he  '11   have    to    go 


THE   HELPERS  111 

through  the  stamp-mill  and  get  himself  pulverized ; 
but  when  it  comes  to  the  clean-up  there  '11  be  more 
good  metal  than  tailings.     Don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  know  ?  "  queried  Constance. 

"I  did  n't  ask  you  what  yoii  know  ;  I  asked  what 
you  thought  about  it." 

"  You  forget  that  we  've  met  only  two  or  three 
times." 

"  I  don't  forget  anything.  But  I  know  you  can 
size  a  man  up  while  the  rest  of  us  are  trying  to  get 
acquainted  with  him.  Don't  you  believe  that  Jef- 
fard  will  come  out  all  right  in  the  end?  " 

She  was  silent  for  a  minute  or  two,  and  when  she 
answered  there  was  a  tremidous  note  in  her  voice 
which  was  new  to  Bartrow. 

"  I  'm  afraid  he  has  made  that  and  everything 
else  impossible,  Dick.  I  told  you  I  had  seen  him 
and  talked  with  him ;  that  was  the  day  after  1  tele- 
graphed you  about  the  suicide,  nearly  two  months 
ago.  From  that  day  to  tliis  he  has  not  been  seen 
or  heard  of  in  Denver,  so  far  as  Tommie  can  find 
out." 

"  Pshaw  !  Then  you  think  he  has  taken  the  short 
cut  out  of  it,  after  all  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think,"  said  Constance  ; 
and  as  they  were  at  the  top  of  the  steep  trail,  the 
subject  was  drojiped. 

On  the  whole,  Connie's  apprehensions  that  her 
cousin's  urban  upbringing  might  make  her  a  difficult 
guest  for  the  young  miner  were  apparently  ground- 
less.    Miss  Van  Vetter  rhapsodized  over  the  scenery ; 


112  THE   HELPERS 

waded  clieerfully  tlirough  the  dripping  tunnel  of  the 
Little  Myriad  to  the  very  heading,  in  order  to  see 
with  her  own  eyes  the  vein  of  mineral ;  thought 
Bartrow\s  throe-room  log  cabin  was  good  enough  for 
any  one  ;  and  ate  the  dishes  of  Wun  Ling's  pre- 
paring as  though  a  Chinese  cook  were  a  necessary 
adjunct  to  every  well  regulated  household.  When 
the  first  day  of  exhilarating  sight-seeing  came  to  an 
end,  and  the  two  young  women  were  together  in 
their  room,  Connie  bethought  her  of  her  promise  to 
Bartrow. 

"  By  the  way,  Myra,  did  you  find  out  how  the 
Little  Myriad  came  by  its  name?"  she  asked. 

"No;  I  forgot  to  ask  Mr,  Bartrow  again." 

"  I  can  tell  you,  if  you  'd  really  like  to  know." 

"  WeU  ?  " 

"  He  was  going  to  call  it  the  '  Myra,'  and  he  asked 
me  if  I  thought  you  W  object.  I  told  him  you 
would,  —  most  emphatically.  Then  he  said  he  would 
call  it  the  '  Myriad,'  because  that  was  the  only  word 
he  could  think  of  that  was  anything  like  INIyra." 

Miss  Van  Vetter  was  arranging  her  hair  before 
the  small  mirror  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  and 
Constance  waited  long  for  her  rejoinder.  When  it 
came  it  was  rather  irrelevant. 

"  I  've  heard  of  people  who  could  read  your 
thoughts  better  than  you  could  think  them,"  she 
said  ;  and  Connie  was  too  sleepy  to  strike  back. 


CHAPTER  XII 

For  a  week  after  the  arrival  of  his  visitors,  Bar- 
trow  had  scant  time  and  less  inclination  for  trouble- 
ment  about  such  purely  mundane  affairs  as  the 
driving  of  tunnels  and  the  incidental  acquisition  of 
wealth  thereby.  There  were  burro  journeys  to  the 
top  of  the  pass,  and  to  the  sheer  cliif  known  to 
the  prosaic  frontiersmen  as  the  devil's  jumping-off- 
place ;  exciirsions  afoot  down  the  mountain  to  the 
cool  depths  of  Chipeta  Canyon,  and  to  Silver  Lake 
beyond  the  shrugged  shoulder  of  Lost  Creek  Moun- 
tain ;  and  finally  there  was  a  breath-cutting  climb  to 
the  snow-patched  summit  of  El  Reposo,  imdertaken 
for  the  express  purpose  of  enabling  Myra  Van  Vetter 
to  say  that  she  had  been  where  there  was  reason  to 
presume  that  no  hvmian  being  had  preceded  her. 

These  things  three  of  them  did,  leaving  Stephen 
Elliott  to  his  own  devices,  in  accordance  with  the 
set  terms  upon  which  he  had  consented  to  father  the 
parti  carve.  "  Go  on  and  climb  your  mountains  and 
just  leave  me  out,"  he  would  say,  when  the  prepara- 
tions were  makuig  for  the  day's  jaunt.  "  I  've  had 
my  share  of  it,  off  and  on,  while  I  was  hunting  for 
something  I  had  n't  lost.  Dick,  here,  has  n't  any 
better  sense  than  to  humor  you ;  but  you  'd  tramp 
mighty  little  if  I  had  to  go  along." 


114  THE   HELPP:RS 

Whereupon  he  would  plant  his  ehair  for  the  day 
upon  the  slah-floored  porch  of  the  cabin,  tilt  it  to  a 
comfortable  angle  against  the  wall,  and  while  away 
the  hours  smoking  a  mellow  pipe  and  reading  the 
day-old  Denver  jiaper  painstakingly,  from  the  top  of 
the  title  page  to  the  bottom  of  the  last  want  column. 

Thus  the  crystalline  autumn  days  winged  their 
flight,  and  Bartrow  squired  the  two  young  women 
hither  and  yon,  and  finally  to  the  top  of  El  Keposo, 
as  recorded.  This  excursion  was  the  climax,  from  a 
scenic  point  of  view ;  and  Myra,  having  long  since 
exhausted  her  vocabulary  of  superlatives,  was  un- 
usually silent. 

"  What 's  come  over  you  ?  are  you  gorged  with 
mountains?"  queried  Connie  sjanpathetically,  slip- 
ping her  arm  around  her  cousin's  waist. 

"  It  is  n't  that ;  it 's  just  that  1  'm  too  full  for 
utterance,  I  think ;  or  perhaps  I  should  say  too 
empty  of  words  to  do  it  justice.  How  flippantly 
trivial  everything  human  seems  in  the  face  of  such  a 
landscape !  Here  are  we,  three  inconsequent  atoms, 
standing  brazenly  in  the  face  of  great  nature,  and 
trying  to  gather  some  notion  of  the  infinite  into  our 
finite  little  souls.     It's  sheer  impertinence." 

"They  won't  mind,"  rejoined  Bartrow,  with  a 
comprehensive  gesture,  meant  to  include  the  moun- 
tains, singular  and  collective  ;  "they 'reused  to  it  — 
the  impertinence,  I  mean.  What  you  see  is  the  face 
of  nature,  as  you  say,  and  man  does  n't  seem  to  be 
in  it.  Just  the  same,  there  is  a  small  army  of  men 
scattered  among  these  overgrown  hills,  each  with  an 


THE   HELPERS  115 

inquisitive  pick  and  shovel,  backed  by  hardihood 
enough  to  dare  anything  for  the  sake  of  adding 
something  to  the  wealth  of  the  world." 

Myra  turned  her  back  on  the  prospect  and 
searched  Bartrow's  eyes  in  a  way  to  make  him  won- 
der what  was  wrong  with  his  well-turned  little 
speech. 

"  That  is  the  first  insincere  thing  I  ever  heard  you 
say,"  she  asserted.  "  As  if  you  did  n't  know  that 
not  one  of  these  men  ever  wastes  a  second  thought 
upon  the  world  or  the  people  in  it,  or  upon  anything 
outside  of  his  own  little  circle  of  ambitions  and 
craving's !  " 

"  You  're  quite  right,"  admitted  Bartrow,  abashed 
and  more  than  willing  to  stand  corrected  in  any  field 
entered  by  Miss  Van  Vetter ;  but  Constance  took 
up  the  cudgels  on  the  other  side. 

"  You  make  me  exceedingly  weary,  you  two," 
she  said,  with  seraphic  sweetness.  "  Neither  of  you 
knows  what  you  are  talking  about  half  the  time,  and 
when  you  do,  it  is  n't  worth  telling.  Now  listen  to 
me  while  I  show  you  how  ridiculous  you  are,"  — 
Bartrow  sat  down  on  a  flat-topped  boulder,  and 
made  a  dumb  show  of  stopping  his  ears,  —  "I  con- 
tend that  nearly  every  one  of  these  poor  prospec- 
tors you  've  been  maligning  is  a  perfect  monument 
of  unseLfislmess.  He  is  working  and  starving  and 
hoping  and  enduring  for  somebody  else  in  nine  cases 
out  of  ten.  It 's  a  wife,  or  a  family,  or  an  old  father 
or  mother,  or  the  mortgage  on  the  farm,  or  some 
other  good  thing." 


116  THE   HELPERS 

Myra  made  a  snowball  and  threw  it  at  Connie 
the  elo(iiient.  "•  I  think  El  Heposo  is  misnamed," 
she  contended.  "  It  ought  to  be  called  the  Moimt 
of  Perversity.  Mr.  Bartrow,  you  are  sitting  upon 
the  table,  which  is  very  undignified.  Please  move 
and  let  us  see  what  Wun  Ling  has  stowed  away  in 
the  haversack." 

They  spread  their  luncheon  on  the  flat-topped 
boidder,  and  fell  ujjon  it  like  the  hungry  wayfarers 
that  they  were,  calling  it  a  sky  banquet,  and  drinking 
Wun  Ling's  health  in  a  bottle  of  cold  tea.  With 
satiety  came  thoughts  of  the  descent,  and  Myra 
pleaded  piteously  for  a  change  of  route. 

"  I  shall  never  get  down  the  way  we  came  up 
in  the  wide,  wide  world,  —  not  alive,"  she  asserted. 
"  With  the  view  in  prospect,  I  believe  I  could  clunb 
the  Matterhorn ;  but  getting  down  is  quite  another 
matter.     Can't  we  go  around  some  other  way  ?  " 

Bartrow  thought  it  possible ;  but  since  Miss  Van 
Vetter  had  particidarly  desired  to  stand  upon  the 
summit  of  a  hitherto  unexplored  peak,  he  was  not 
sure. 

"  But  we  can  try,"  said  MjTa.  "  At  the  worst 
we  can  come  back  and  creep  down  the  way  we  came 
up." 

Bartrow  glanced  at  his  watch,  and  focused  the 
field-glass  on  a  diaphanous  cloud  sli})ping  stealthily 
across  the  serrated  summits  of  the  main  range  away 
to  the  westward. 

"  Yes,  we  can  do  that,  if  we  have  time,"  he  as- 
sented.    "  But  1  'm  a  little  afraid  of  the  weather. 


THE   HELPERS  117 

That  cloud  may  miss  us  by  twenty  miles ;  and  then 
again,  it  may  take  a  straight  shoot  across  the  valley 
and  make  us  very  wet  and  uncomfortable." 

Constance  came  to  the  rescue  with  a  compromise. 

"  You  go  and  prospect  for  a  new  trail,  Dick,  and 
we  '11  stay  here.  If  you  find  one  you  can  come  back 
for  us,  and  if  you  don't  we'll  be  fresh  for  the 
scramble  down  the  other  way," 

Bartrow  said  it  was  well,  and  immediately  set 
about  putting  the  suggestion  into  effect.  When 
he  was  fairly  out  of  sight  over  the  curvature  of  El 
Reposo's  mighty  shoulder,  Myra  said  :  — 

"  He  's  good,  is  n't  he  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  man  among  men,  Myra ;  a  man  to  tie 
to,  as  we  say  here  in  Colorado." 

They  were  sitting  together  on  the  flat  boulder, 
and  Miss  Van  Vetter  stole  a  side  glance  at  her 
cousin's  profile.  "  You  have  known  hun  a  long  time, 
have  n't  you,  Connie  ?  " 

"  Ahnost  ever  since  I  can  remember.  I  'm  Colo- 
rado-born, you  know,  and  he  is  n't ;  but  he  came 
across  the  plains  in  the  days  of  the  ox-teams,  when 
he  was  a  little  fellow,  and  the  first  work  he  ever 
did  was  for  poppa,  when  we  lived  on  the  ranch  below 
Golden." 

"  He  is  a  self-made  man,  is  n't  he  ?  " 

"  Don't  say  that,  Myra,  please.  I  hate  the  word. 
God  makes  us,  and  circumstances  or  our  own  foolish- 
ness mar  us.  But  Dick  is  self-educated,  so  far  as 
he  is  educated  at  all.  He  was  a  homeless  waif  when 
he  fu'st  saw  the  Rockies.     His  father  died  in  the 


118  THE   HELPERS 

inicUlle  of  the  trip  across  the  plains,  and  his  mother 
lived  only  long  enough  to  have  her  grave  dug  some 
two  hundred  miles  farther  west.  The  others  took 
care  of  Dick  and  brought  him  along  with  them  to 
Colorado  because  there  was  n't  anything  else  to  do ; 
and  since,  Dick  has  made  his  own  way,  doing  any 
honest  thing  that  came  to  his  hand." 

"  He  could  n't  do  the  other  kind,"  Myra  averred. 
"  But  you  spoke  of  his  education  as  if  he  had  n't 
any.  I  suppose  that  was  one  of  your  '  exuberances,' 
as  Uncle  Stephen  calls  them.  Mr.  Bartrow  is  cer- 
tainly anything  but  illiterate." 

"  No,  he  is  n't  that,  though  he  has  no  education  of 
the  kind  you  effete  people  have  in  mind  when  you 
spell  the  word  with  a  capital  —  the  kind  with  a 
Greek-letter-badge  and  college-yell  attachment.  If 
you  should  tell  him  you  had  been  to  Bryn  Mawr,  he 
would  jirobably  take  it  to  be  some  summer  resort  he 
had  n't  heard  of.  But  that  is  n't  saying  he  is  stupid. 
He  could  give  the  man  with  the  yell  a  lot  of  infor- 
mation on  a  good  many  subjects.  Poppa  says  he 
was  always  an  earnest  little  lad ;  always  reading 
everything  he  could  get  hold  of  —  which  was  n't 
very  much  in  the  early  days,  as  you  may  imagine." 

"  Nevertheless,  he  seems  to  be  getting  on  in  the 
world,"  said  Miss  Van  Vetter.  "  Your  father  says 
the  Little  Myriad  is  a  promising  mine." 

There  was  more  pathos  than  mirth  in  the  smile 
which  flitted  across  Connie's  face. 

"  You  're  new  among  us  yet,  Myra.  Everything 
with  mineral  in  it  is  promismg  to  us ;  we  are  cranks 


THE   HELPERS  119 

pure  and  simple,  on  that  subject.  The  Little  Myriad 
is  promising,  of  course,  —  there  is  n't  an  unpro- 
mising mine  in  the  State,  for  that  matter,  —  but  it 's 
only  a  promise,  as  yet.  If  Dick  should  reach  the 
end  of  his  hundred  and  fifty  feet  of  development 
without  striking  pay,  he  would  be  a  ruined  man." 

"  Why  could  n't  he  keep  on  until  he  should 
strike  it  ?  " 

"  For  the  very  simple  reason  that  he  is  working 
on  borrowed  capital ;  and  I  happen  to  know  that  he 
has  borrowed  about  all  he  can." 

"  But  he  believes  in  the  success  of  the  venture, 
absolutely." 

"  Of  course  he  does ;  that  is  one  of  the  conditions. 
It 's  merely  a  question  of  credit  with  him.  If  any 
one  would  lend,  Dick  would  go  on  borrowing  and 
digging  until  he  struck  pay-ore  or  came  out  on  the 
other  side  of  the  mountain  —  and  then  he  'd  think 
he  had  n't  gone  deep  enough.  That  is  the  pathetic 
side  of  his  character ;  he  never  knows  when  he  's 
beaten." 

"  I  should  call  it  the  heroic  side." 

"  It  is  heroic,  but  it  is  pathetic,  too.  It  is  sure 
to  bring  him  trouble,  sooner  or  later,  and  Dick  is  n't 
one  to  take  trouble  lightly.  He  '11  go  on  fighting 
and  struggling  long  after  the  battle  has  become 
hopeless,  and  that  makes  the  sting  of  defeat  so  much 
sharper.  It  makes  me  want  to  cry  when  I  think 
what  a  terrible  thing  it  would  be  for  him  if  the  Lit- 
tle Myriad  should  go  back  on  its  promise." 

Miss  Van  Vetter  took  the  field-glass  and  stood  up 


I'JO  THE   HELPERS 

to  watcli  tlie  stonn  cloud  wliieh  was  now  spreading 
gradually  and  creei)ing  slowly  down  the  slopes  of 
the  divide.  "  You  think  a  great  deal  of  Mr.  Bar- 
trow,  dou't  you,  Connie  ?  " 

"  Indeed  I  do  ;  he  comes  next  to  poppa  with  me." 

For  so  long  a  time  as  one  might  take  in  saying 
a  little  prayer  at  a  needful  crisis,  Myra  gave  her 
undivided  attention  to  the  fleecy  blur  slipping  down 
the  side  of  the  main  range.  Then  the  strain  on  her 
eyes  filled  them  with  tears,  and  she  put  the  glass 
back  into  its  case.     Constance  saw  the  tears. 

"Why,  Myra!  you're  crying.  What  is  the 
matter?" 

"  I  'm  lonesome  and  homesick,  and  I  long  for  the 
flesh-pots  of  Denver  ;  but  it  was  the  glass  that  made 
me  cry.  Connie,  dear,  dou't  you  think  we  'd  better 
be  going  back  to  town  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes ;  if  you  are  quite  ready.  But  it 
will  be  a  disappointment  for  Dick.  He  is  counting 
on  another  week,  at  least." 

"  Yes,  I  know ;  and  that  is  why  I  think  we  ought 
to  go.  We  are  keeping  him  from  his  work  in  the 
mine,  and  his  time  is  precious." 

"  Rather  more  so  than  he  gives  us  to  understand, 
I  fancy,"  Constance  assented.  "  I  suppose  you  are 
right,  Myra,  —  we  ought  not  to  stay ;  but  you  '11 
have  to  tax  your  ingenuity  to  find  an  excuse  that 
will  hold  water.  Dick  won't  be  satisfied  with  a 
P.  P.  C.  card." 

"  Perhaps  the  chapter  of  accidents  will  help  us. 
If  it  does  n't,  you  must  make  your  father  remember 


THE   HELPERS  121 

that  he  has  urgent  business  in  Denver  which  won't 
wait.     Can't  you  manage  it  that  way?  " 

"  If  I  can't,  I  '11  ring  you  in.  Poppa  would  take 
passage  for  Honolulu  to-morrow  if  he  had  an  idea 
that  you  'd  like  to  see  the  Kanakas  ride  surf -boards." 

"  I  should  much  rather  not  appear  in  it,"  said 
Myra ;  and  then,  with  truly  feminine  inconsistency, 
"  I  don't  know  why  I  say  that.  On  the  whole,  per- 
haps you  'd  better  say  that  it 's  my  proposal.  Then 
Mr.  Bartrow  will  set  it  down  to  the  vagaries  of  a 
flighty  migrant,  and  he  won't  hold  spite  against  his 
old  friends." 

Connie  the  wise  began  to  wonder  if  there  were 
unplumbed  depths  in  her  cousin,  —  depths  which 
Bartrow's  defenseless  obviousness  had  stirred  to  his 
sparing  ;  but  she  drove  the  thought  out  as  unworthy. 
Myra  had  been  kind  to  Dick,  certainly,  but  she  had 
never  encouraged  him.  There  might  well  be  an  ac- 
cepted lover  in  the  dim  Philadelphia  background  for 
aught  Myra  had  said  or  done  to  evince  the  contrary. 
In  which  case  —  Connie  the  wise  became  Connie  the 
pitiful  in  the  turning  of  a  leaf  —  poor  Dick !  At 
that  moment,  as  if  the  sympathetic  thought  had 
evoked  him,  Bartrow  came  in  sight  on  the  lower 
slope  of  the  summit.  He  was  breathing  hard  when 
he  reached  them. 

"  We  can  make  it  all  right,"  he  said,  slinging  the 
glass  and  the  haversack,  "  but  it  '11  add  tln-ee  or  four 
miles.  It 's  a  roundabout  way,  and  it  will  take  us 
into  the  head  of  Little  Myriad  Gulch.  If  you  're 
ready  we  '11  get  a  quick  move.     That  storm  is  head- 


122  THE   HELPERS 

ing  straight  for  lis,  and  we  '11  be  in  luck  if  we  don't 
come  in  for  a  soaking." 

El  Reposo  is  a  bald  mountain,  and  its  tonsure  is 
fringed  with  a  heavy  forest  growth  which  stops 
abruptly  at  tiiubei'-line.  Halfway  to  the  head  of 
the  gulch  the  new  trail  ended  in  a  tangle  of  fallen 
trees,  —  the  debris  of  an  ancient  snowslide,  —  and 
much  valuable  time  was  lost  in  skirting  the  obstacle. 
Bartrow  glanced  over  his  shoidder  from  time  to 
time,  and  finally  said,  "  There  it  comes,  with  a 
vengeance !  " 

The  exclamation  was  ill-timed.  Myra  turned  and 
stopped  to  watch  the  fleecy  curtain  of  vapor  shroud- 
ing the  great  bald  summit  they  had  just  quitted. 
Bartrow  sought  to  possess  his  soul  in  patience. 

"  Is  n't  it  grand  !  "  she  said,  with  kindling  enthu- 
siasm. 

"  Yes  ;  grand  and  wet.  If  you  '11  excuse  me, 
Miss  Myra,  I  think  we  'd  better  run  for  it." 

They  ran  for  it  accordingly,  Connie  m  the  lead 
like  the  free-limbed  daughter  of  the  altitudes  that 
she  was,  and  Bartrow  and  Miss  Van  Vetter  hand 
in  hand  like  joyous  children  for  whom  self -conscious- 
ness is  not.  From  the  beginning  of  the  wild  race 
down  the  slopes  the  wetting  seemed  momentarily 
imminent;  none  the  less,  they  managed  to  reach 
the  gulch  dryshod.  Inasmuch  as  their  course  down 
the  ravine  was  in  a  direction  nearly  opposite  to  the 
sweep  of  the  wind,  it  soon  took  them  beyond  the 
storm  zone,  and  they  stopped  to  listen  to  the  echoes 
of  nature's  battle  reverberating  from  the  crags  of  the 


THE   HELPERS  123 

liigher  levels.  The  writhing  of  the  great  firs  in 
the  gTasp  of  the  wind  came  to  their  ears  like  the 
clashing  of  miniature  breakers  on  a  tideless  shore  ; 
and  the  booming  of  the  thunder  was  minified  by  the 
rare  atmosphere  into  a  sound  not  unlike  the  distant 
firing  of  cannon.  While  they  paused,  Myra  cKmbed 
to  the  top  of  a  water-worn  boulder  in  the  bed  of  the 
ravine  to  get  a  better  point  of  view,  and  from  this 
elevation  she  could  see  the  forest  at  the  head  of  the 
gulch. 

"  Oh,  Connie  !  "  she  cried,  "  climb  up  here,  quick! 
It 's  a  cyclone  !  " 

Bartrow  threw  up  his  head  like  a  startled  animal. 
There  was  a  steady  roar  in  the  air  which  was  not 
of  the  thunder. 

"  Cyclone  nothing  1  "  he  yeUed.  "It's  a  cloud- 
burst! Stay  where  you  are,  for  your  life,  Miss 
Myra  !  " 

Even  as  he  spoke  the  roar  deepened  until  the 
vibration  of  it  shook  the  soKd  earth,  and  a  dark 
mass  of  water,  turbid  and  debris-laden,  shot  from 
the  head  of  the  gulch  and  swept  down  the  ravine. 
Bartrow  lived  an  anguished  lifetime  in  an  instant 
of  hesitation.  To  save  the  woman  he  loved  was  to 
sacrifice  Constance.  To  help  Connie  first  was  to 
take  the  desperate  chance  that  Myra  would  be  safe 
till  he  could  reach  her. 

There  was  no  time  for  the  nice  weighing  of 
possibilities ;  and  Richard  Bartrow  was  a  man  of 
action  before  all  else.  Winding  an  arm  about 
Constance,   he  dashed  out  of  the   ravine  with   her, 


124  THE   HELPERS 

gettiiif;^  Lack  to  Myra  three  seconds  in  advance  of 
the  boulder-hiden  flood.  There  was  time  enough, 
but  none  to  spare.  A  tree  gave  him  an  anchorage 
on  the  bank  above  her  ;  she  sprang  toward  him  at 
the  word  of  command  ;  and  he  phicked  her  up  out 
of  the  reach  of  the  foaming  torrent  which  snapi)ed 
at  her  and  overturned  the  great  rock  upon  which  she 
had  been  standing. 

After  which  narrow  escape  they  sat  together  on 
the  slope  of  safety  and  watched  the  subsiding  flood, 
laughing  over  the  "  stampede,"  as  Connie  called  it, 
with  all  the  reckless  hardihood  of  yoi;th  and  good 
spirits. 

"  I  would  n't  have  missed  seeing  it  for  anything  in 
the  world,"  declared  the  enthusiast.  "  I  had  plenty 
of  tune  to  get  out  of  the  way,  but  I  couldn't  help 
waiting  to  see  how  it  would  look,  coming  over  that 
last  cliff  up  there." 

"  Dick  did  n't  give  me  a  chance  to  see  anything," 
Connie  complained.  "  He  whisked  me  out  of  the 
way  as  if  I  'd  been  a  naughty  little  girl  caught  play- 
ing with  the  fire." 

Bartrow  examined  the  field-glass  to  see  if  it  had 
suffered  in  the  scramble.  It  was  unbroken,  and  he 
put  it  back  into  the  case  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  If  you  two  had  smashed  that  glass  between  you, 
I  don't  know  what  I  should  have  done,"  he  said ; 
whereat  they  all  laughed  again  and  took  up  the  line 
of  march  for  the  mine. 

That  evening,  after  supper,  the  four  of  them  were 
on  the  porch  of  the   three-roomed   cabin,   enjoying 


THE   HELPERS  125 

the  sunset.  Constance  had  spoken  to  her  father 
about  the  return  to  Denver,  and  Stephen  Elliott  was 
racking  his  brain  for  some  excuse  reasonable  enough 
to  satisfy  Bartrow,  when  a  man  came  up  the  trail 
from  the  direction  of  Alta  Vista.  It  was  Bryant, 
the  station  agent ;  and  he  was  the  bearer  of  a 
telegram  addressed  to  Constance.  She  read  it  and 
gave  it  to  Bartrow.  The  operator  had  taken  it 
literally,  and  it  was  a  small  study  in  phonetics. 

"  Shees  gaun  an  got  inter  trubbel.  P.  Grims 
swipt  her  masheen.     Wot  shel  I  do. 

"T.  Reagan." 

Bartrow  smiled  and  handed  the  message  back. 
"  That 's  Tommie,  I  take  it.     What 's  it  about  ?  " 

"  It 's  a  young  woman  I  've  been  trying  to  help. 
They  are  persecutmg  her  again,  and  I  'U  have  to  go 
back  as  quickly  as  I  can." 

"  That 's  bad,"  said  Bartrow  ;  but  Connie's  father 
looked  greatly  relieved,  and,  filling  his  pipe,  began 
to  burn  incense  to  the  kindly  god  of  chance. 

After  a  time,  Bartrow  asked,  "  When  ?  " 

Connie's  gaze  was  on  the  sunset,  but  her  thoughts 
were  miles  away  in  a  humble  cottage  in  West 
Denver  where  she  had  thought  Margaret  would  be 
safely  hidden  from  the  spoiler. 

"I  think  we'd  better  go  now — to-night.  You 
can  flag  the  train  at  the  mine  switch,  can't  you?" 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  can  get  ready,  can't  you,  M}Ta  ?  " 


126  THE   HELrERS 

''  Certainly  ;  it  won't  take  me  long  to  pack.  If 
you  '11  excuse  me  I  '11  go  and  do  it  now,  and  get  it 
off  my  mind." 

When  Myra  had  gone  in,  Bartrow  took  the  mes- 
sage and  read  it  again.  "  This  is  no  woman's  job," 
he  objected.  "  Let  me  go  down  with  you  and 
straighten  it  out." 

"  No,  you  must  n't,  Dick  ;  you  have  lost  a  clear 
week  as  it  is." 

She  rose  and  went  to  the  end  of  the  porch, 
whither  he  presently  followed  her.  "  You  '11  need  a 
man,"  he  insisted. 

••'  I  shall  have  poppa." 

"  Yes,  but  he 's  no  good  —  only  to  pay  the 
biUs." 

"No  matter;  I  shall  get  along  all  right." 

"  That 's  straight,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  mean  it." 

"  All  right ;  you  're  the  doctor.  But  you  must 
wire  me  if  you  need  me." 

An  hour  later  the  visitors  had  said  good-by  to 
Bartrow  and  the  Little  Myriad,  and  were  on  their 
way  down  the  canyon  iii  the  miniature  sleeping-car. 
Myra  pleaded  weariness  and  had  her  berth  made 
down  early.  Nevertheless,  she  lay  awake  far  into 
the  night  gazing  out  at  the  rotating  heavens  and 
the  silent  procession  of  peaks  and  precipices.  For 
a  background  the  shifting  scene  held  two  irrelevant 
pictures  ;  one,  freslily  etched,  reproducing  the  little 
drama  of  the  cloud-burst ;  the  other  a  memory  of 
something  she  had  read,  —  a  story  in  which  a  man, 


THE   HELPERS  127 

two  women,  an  overturned  boat,  and  a  storm-lashed 
lake  figured  as  the  persons  and  properties. 

"He  knew  which  he  loved —  which  to  save  first 
—  when  the  crux  came,"  she  said  softly  to  her 
pillow,  "  and  the  other  girl  was  fortunate  not  to 
have  drowned."  And  at  that  moment  a  certain 
well-to-do  gentleman  of  middle  age  in  a  far-away  city 
on  the  Atlantic  seaboard  was  nearer  the  aoal  of  his 
wishes  than  he  had  ever  been  before. 

In  the  mean  time,  Bartrow  had  an  inspiration 
wliich  was  importunate  enough  to  send  liim  afoot  to 
Alta  Vista  in  the  wake  of  the  swinging  passenger 
train.  It  found  voice  in  a  mandatory  telegram  to 
Lansdale,  telling  him  to  call  at  once  upon  Miss 
Constance  Elliott,  to  present  the  message  as  his 
credential,  and  to  place  liimseK  at  her  service  in 
any  required  capacity,  from  man-at-arms  to  attorney- 
at-law. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

In  his  westward  sweep  over  the  Titanic  play- 
ground of  farther  Colorado,  the  sun  looks  down  into 
a  narrow  valley  through  which  tumbles  a  brawling 
stream  whose  waters,  snow-born  within  rifle-shot, 
go  to  swell  the  canyoned  flood  of  the  Gminison 
River.  Fir-clad  mountains,  sombre  green  to  timber- 
line  and  fallow  dun  or  dazzling  white  above  it, 
according  to  the  season,  stand  like  a  cordon  of 
mighty  sentinels  around  and  about ;  and  the  foot  of 
civilized  man  treading  the  sward  of  the  park-like 
valley  must  first  have  measured  many  weary  miles 
of  the  momitain  wilderness. 

Notwithstanding  its  apparent  inaccessibility,  and 
its  remoteness  from  any  hoof-worn  trail,  the  valley 
had  once  been  inhabited.  The  evidences  were  a 
rude  log  cabin,  with  its  slab  door  hanging  by  a 
single  leathern  hinge,  buttressing  a  weathered  cliff 
on  the  western  bank  of  the  stream  ;  and,  in  the 
opposing  mountain  slope,  a  timbered  opening 
bearded  with  a  gray  dump  of  debris,  marking  the 
entrance  to  a  prospect  tunnel. 

Cabin  and  tunnel  were  both  the  handiwork  of 
James  Garvin.  On  one  of  his  many  prospecting 
tours  he  had  penetrated  to  the  shut-in  valley  ;  and 
finding  a  promise  of  mineral  deposits  in  the  slopes 


THE   HELPERS  129 

of  the  sentinel  mountains,  had  gone  into  permanent 
camp  and  driven  the  prospect  tunnel  into  the  rocky 
hillside.  When  he  had  done  something  more  than 
the  development  work  necessary  to  hold  the  claim, 
two  things  conspired  to  drive  him  forth  of  the  valley. 
His  provisions  ran  low ;  and  the  indications  in  the 
timnel,  which  had  pointed  to  a  silver-bearing  lode  of 
graphic  tellurium,  changed  suddenly  at  a  "  dike  "  in 
the  strata,  and  disappeared  altogether. 

Garvin  was  a  stubborn  man,  and  the  toxin  of  the 
prospector's  fever  was  in  his  blood.  Wherefore  he 
put  himself  upon  siege  rations  and  delved  against 
time.  When  he  had  baked  his  last  skillet  of  pan- 
bread  and  fired  his  last  charge  of  dynamite  in  the 
heading,  the  dike  was  still  unpen  etrated.  After 
that,  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  retreat ;  and  he 
reluctantly  broke  camp  and  left  the  valley,  meaning 
to  return  when  he  could. 

Two  years  elapsed  and  the  opportunity  still  tar- 
ried ;  but  Garvin  kept  the  shut-in  valley  in  mind, 
and  it  was  thitherward  he  turned  his  face  when 
Stephen  Elliott's  liberal  "  grub  -  stake,"  and  the 
hastily  formed  partnership  with  Jeffard,  provided 
the  means  and  the  help  necessary  to  sink  a  shaft. 

It  was  in  the  afternoon  of  a  cloudless  August 
day  that  Jeffard  had  his  first  glimpse  of  the  park- 
like valley  lying  in  the  lap  of  the  sentinel  moun- 
tains. The  air  was  crisp  and  thin-edged  with  the 
keen  breath  of  the  altitudes,  but  the  untempered 
heat  of  the  sun  beat  pitilessly  upon  the  heads  of 
the  two  men  picking  their  laborious  way  over  the 


130  THE   HELPERS 

rofk-ribbecl  shoulder  of  the  least  precipitous  moirn- 
tain. 

"  Well,  parclner,  we  've  riz  the  last  o'  the  hills," 
quoth  Garvin,  stepping  aside  to  let  the  burro,  with 
its  jangling  burden  of  camp  utensils  and  provisions, 
jjrecede  him.    "  How  d'  you  stack  up  by  this  time?" 

Jeffard's  tongue  clave  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth. 
Frantic  plunges  into  the  nether  depths  are  not  con- 
ducive to  good  health,  moral  or  physical,  and  nature 
was  exacting  the  inevitable  penalty.  For  three  days 
he  had  been  fighting  a  losing  battle  with  an  augment- 
ing army  of  ills,  and  but  for  the  rough  heartening 
of  his  companion  he  would  have  fallen  by  the  way- 
side more  than  once  dining  the  breath-cutting  march 
over  the  mountain  passes.  Wherefore  his  answer  to 
Garvin's  question  was  the  babblement  of  despair. 

"I'm  a  dead  man,  Garvin.  You'll  only  have 
me  to  bury  if  you  persist  in  dragging  me  any  farther. 
I  'm  done,  I  tell  you." 

Garvin  stroked  his  stubbly  chin  and  hid  his  con- 
cern under  a  ferocious  scowl. 

"  No,  you  ain't  done,  not  by  a  long  shot.  You 
need  n't  to  think  I  'm  goin'  to  let  you  play  off  on  me 
that-a-way  —  with  the  promised  land  cuddlin'  down 
yonder  in  that  gidch  a-waitin'  for  us.  Not  much, 
Mary  Ann.  You  're  goin'  to  twist  the  crank  o' 
that  there  win'lass  a-many  a  time  afore  you  get 
shut  o'  me." 

The  l)urro  wagged  one  ear  and  sat  upon  its 
haunches  preparatory  to  a  perilous  slide  dox^ii  a 
steep  place  in  the  trail.     Garvui  saved  the  pack  by 


THE   HELPERS  131 

darting  forward  and  anchoring  both  beast  and  biu'- 
den  by  main  strength.  While  the  big  man  was 
wrestling  with  the  burro,  Jeffard  stumbled  and  fell, 
rose  wavering  to  his  knees  and  fell  again,  this  time 
with  his  teeth  set  to  stifle  a  groan.  Garvin  threw 
the  pack-animal  with  dexterous  twitch  of  its  foreleg, 
and  hoppled  it  with  a  turn  of  the  lariat  before  going 
back  to  Jeffard. 

"  Now  then,  up  you  come,"  he  said,  trying  to 
stand  Jeffard  upon  his  feet ;  but  the  sick  man  col- 
lapsed inertly  and  sank  down  again. 

"  Let  me  alone,"  he  enjoined,  in  a  sudden  trans- 
port of  feeble  truculence.  "  I  told  you  I  was  done, 
and  I  am.  Can't  you  go  about  your  business  and 
leave  a  man  to  die  in  peace  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  be  damned,"  retorted  Garvin  cheer- 
fully. "  All  you  need  is  a  little  more  sand.  Get  up 
and  mog  along  now,  'fore  I  run  shy  o'  patience  and 
thump  the  everlastin'  daylights  out  o'  you."  And 
he  stooped  again  and  slipped  his  arm  under  Jeffard's 
shoulders. 

The  sick  man's  head  rocked  from  side  to  side. 
"  Don't,"  he  groaned,  this  time  in  gentler  protest. 
"  I  'd  do  it  if  I  could  —  if  only  for  your  sake.  But 
it  is  n't  in  me  ;  I  've  been  dying  on  my  feet  for  the 
last  three  hours.  I  could  n't  drag  myself  another 
step  if  the  gates  of  Heaven  stood  open  down  yon- 
der and  all  hell  were  yapping  at  my  heels.  Go  on 
and  leave  me  to  fight  it  out.  You  can  come  back 
to-morrow  and  cover  up  what  the  buzzards  have 
left." 


132  THE  HELPERS 

Garvin  straip^htened  up  and  drew  the  back  of  his 
hand  across  his  eyes. 

"  Listen  at  liini !  "  he  broke  out,  in  a  fine  frenzy 
of  simidated  rage.  "  Just  listen  at  the  fool  id  jit 
talk,  will  you  ?  And  me  standin'  over  him  a-pleadin' 
like  a  suckin'  dove !  By  crucifer !  if  it  was  n't 
for  tlu'owin'  away  good  ammynition,  I  'd  plug  him 
one  just  for  his  impidence  —  blame  my  skin  if  I 
would  n't !  "  And  being  frugal  of  his  cartridges, 
Garvin  flung  himself  upon  the  prostrate  burro, 
dragged  it  to  its  feet,  cast  the  jangling  burden, 
pack-saddle  and  all,  and  lifted  Jeffard  astride  of  the 
diminutive  mount. 

"  There  you  are,"  he  said,  with  gruff  tender- 
ness. "  Now  then,  just  lop  your  head  on  my  shoid- 
der  and  lay  back  ag'inst  my  arm,  and  play  you  was 
a-coastin'  dowTi  the  hill  back  o'  the  old  schoolhouse 
on  a  greazed  streak  o'  lightnin',  with  your  big 
brother  a-holdin'  you  on.  We  '11  make  it  pretty 
middlin'  quick,  now,  if  the  canary  don't  peg  out." 
And  thus  they  made  entrance  into  the  shut-in 
valley,  and  won  across  it  to  the  log  cabin  whose 
door  hung  slantwise  by  the  single  hinge. 

Then  and  there  began  a  grim  fight  for  the  life  of 
a  man,  with  an  untutored  son  of  the  solitudes,  lack- 
ing everything  but  the  will  to  do,  pitted  against  a 
fierce  attack  of  moimtain  fever  which  was  aided  and 
abetted  by  the  devitalizing  effects  of  Jeffard's  hard 
apprenticeship  to  evil.  In  the  end  the  indomitable 
will  of  the  nurse,  rather  than  any  conscious  effort 
on  the  part  of  the  patient,  won  the  battle.     Garvin 


THE   HELPERS  133 

cursed  his  luck  and  swore  pathetically  as  day  after 
day  of  the  short  uiountain  summer  came  and  went 
unmarked  by  any  pick-blow  on  the  slopes  of  the 
mountains  of  promise  ;  but  his  care  of  the  sick  man 
was  unremitting,  and  he  was  brutally  tender  and 
wrathfidly  soft-hearted  by  turns  until  Jeffard  was 
well  beyond  the  danger  line. 

It  was  a  lambent  evening  in  the  final  week  of 
August  when  Garvin  carried  the  fever-wasted  con- 
valescent to  the  door  of  the  cabin  and  propped  him 
in  a  rustic  chair  builded  for  the  occasion. 

"  How 's  that  ?  "  he  demanded,  standing  back  to 
get  the  general  effect  of  man  and  chair.  "  Ain't  I 
a  jack-leg  carpenter,  all  right  ?  Now  you  just  brace 
up  and  swaller  all  the  outdoors  you  can  hold  while 
I  smoke  me  a  pipe." 

He  sat  down  on  the  doorstep  and  filled  and 
lighted  his  pipe.  After  a  few  deep-drawn  whiffs,  he 
said,  "  Don't  tire  you  none  to  be  a-settin'  up,  does 
it?" 

"No."  Jeffard  turned  slowly  and  sniffed  the 
pungent  fragrance  of  the  burning  tobacco  with  a 
vague  return  of  the  old  craving.  "  Have  you  an- 
other pipe  ?  "  he  queried.  "  I  believe  I  'd  enjoy  a 
whiff  or  two  with  you." 

"  Now  just  listen  at  that,  will  you  ? "  Garvin 
growled,  masking  his  joy  under  a  transparent  affecta- 
tion of  disgust.  "  Me  takin'  care  of  liim  like  he 
was  a  new-borned  baby,  and  him  a-settin'  there,  cool 
as  a  blizzard,  askin'  for  a  pipe  !  If  I  was  n't  a 
bloomin'  angel,  just  waitin'  for  my  wings  to  sprout, 


134  THE   HELPERS 

I  'd  tell  him  to  go  to  blazes,  that 's  about  what  I  'd 
do." 

None  the  less,  he  went  in  and  found  a  clean  corn- 
cob, filling  it  and  giving  it  to  Jeffard  with  a  lighted 
match.  The  convalescent  smoked  tentatively  for  a 
few  minutes,  pausing  longer  between  the  whiffs  until 
the  fire  and  the  tobacco-hunger  died  out  together. 
After  which  he  said  what  was  in  his  mind. 

"  Garvin,  old  man,  you  must  begin  work  to-mor- 
row," he  began.  "  I  can  take  care  of  myself  now, 
and  in  a  few  days  I  hope  I  '11  be  able  to  take  hold 
with  you.  You  've  lost  too  much  time  tinkering 
with  me.     I  'm  not  worth  it." 

"  We  '11  find  out  about  that  when  we  get  you 
on  to  the  crank  o'  that  win'lass,"  said  Garvin  senten- 
tiously.  "  Man  's  a  good  deal  like  a  horse,  —  vallyble 
accordin'  to  location.  They  tell  me  that  back  in 
God's  country,  where  I  was  raised,  horses  ain't  worth 
their  winter  keep  since  the  'lectric  cars  come  in ;  but 
out  yere  I  've  seen  the  time  when  a  no-account, 
gristly  little  bronco,  three  parts  wire  and  five  parts 
pure  cussedness,  'u'd  a-been  worth  his  weight  in 
bullion." 

Jeffard  picked  the  application  out  of  the  parable, 
and  smiled. 

"  You  've  got  your  bronco,"  he  asserted.  "  When 
you  're  a  little  better  acquainted  with  me  you  '11  find 
your  definition  is  n't  far  wrong.  I  used  to  think  I 
was  a  halfway  decent  sort  of  fellow,  Garvin,  but  I 
believe  the  last  few  months  have  flailed  all  the  whole 
wheat  out  of  me,  leaving  nothing  but  the  musty 
chaff." 


THE  HELPERS  135 

"  Oh,  you  be  hanged  !  "  laughed  Garvin,  with  the 
emphasis  heartening.  "  You  're  off  your  feed  a  few 
lines  yet  and  your  blood  needs  thickenin',  that 's  all. 
I  '11  risk  but  what  you  '11  assay  up  to  grade  in  the 
mill-run." 

Silence  came  and  sat  between  them  for  a  little 
space,  holding  its  own  until  Jeffard's  eye  lighted 
upon  the  debris-bearded  tunnel-opening  in  the  oppo- 
site hillside. 

"What  is  that?"  he  asked,  pointing  the  query 
with  an  emaciated  finger. 

"  That 's  my  old  back  number  that  I  was  tellin' 
you  about  on  the  way  in,"  Garvin  explained.  "  I 
thought  1  'd  struck  a  lead  o'  tellurides  up  there,  sure, 
but  it  petered  out  on  me." 

"  When  was  that  ?  "  Jeffard's  recollection  of  all 
things  connected  with  the  fever-haunted  Jornada 
across  the  ranges  was  misty  and  fragmentary. 

"  Two  year  ago  this  summer,"  rejoined  the  miner  ; 
and  filling  his  pipe  afresh  he  retold  the  story  of  his 
earlier  visit  to  the  valley. 

"  It 's  a  dead  horse,"  he  added,  by  way  of  con- 
clusion. "  I  ought  to  knowed  better.  I  'm  old 
enough  at  the  business  to  savvy  tellurides  when  I 
see  'em,  and  that  lead  never  did  look  right  from  the 
start." 

"  Did  you  ever  locate  it? "  asked  Jeffard. 

"  Not  much  !  I  never  got  any  furder  along  that-a- 
way  than  to  stake  it  off  and  make  a  map  of  it." 
Garvin  found  a  pack  of  thumbed  and  grimy  papers 
in  his  pocket  and  worked  his  way  through  it  till  he 


136  THE   HELPERS 

came  upon  the  map.  "  You  're  an  engineer,"  he 
said  :   "  how  's  that  for  a  jack-leg  entry  map  ?  " 

Jeffard  examined  the  rude  sketch  and  pronounced 
it  good  enough ;  after  which  he  fokled  the  paper 
absently  and  put  it  in  his  pocket.  Garvin  did  not 
notice  his  failure  to  return  it,  —  if,  indeed,  he 
thought  or  cared  anything  fui'ther  about  it,  —  and 
went  on  talking  of  his  own  unwisdom  in  driving  a 
tunnel  on  a  lode  which  did  not  "  look  right." 

"  We  '11  know  better,  this  trip,"  he  asserted,  as 
somewhat  of  a  salve  to  the  former  hurt.  "  We  '11 
go  higher  up  the  gulch  and  sink  a  shaft ;  that 's 
about  what  we  '11  do." 

And  this,  in  the  fullness  of  time,  was  what  they 
did.  After  a  few  days,  Jeffard  was  able  to  inch  his 
way  by  easy  stages  to  the  new  location  ;  and  by  the 
time  Garvin  had  dug  and  blasted  himself  into  a 
square  pit  windlass-deep,  the  convalescent  was  strong 
enough  to  take  his  place  at  the  hoist. 

From  the  very  first,  Jeffard  was  totally  unable  to 
share  Garvin's  enthusiastic  faith  in  the  possibilities 
of  the  new  cast  for  fortune.  Ignorant  of  the  first 
principles  of  practical  metal-digging,  he  was,  none 
the  less,  a  fairly  good  laboratory  metallurgist ;  while 
Garvin,  on  the  other  hand,  knew  naught  of  man's, 
but  much  of  nature's,  book.  Hence  there  arose 
many  discussions  over  the  possibilities  ;  Jeffard  con- 
tending that  the  silver-bearing  lodes  of  the  valley 
were  not  rich  enough  to  bear  pack-train  transporta- 
tion to  the  nearest  railway  point ;  and  Garvin  cling- 
ing tenaciously  to   the   prospectors'  theory  that   a 


THE   HELPERS  137 

"  true-fissure  "  vein  must  of  necessity  prove  a  very 
Golcoucla  once  you  had  gone  deep  enough  into  its 
storehouse. 

When  all  was  said,  the  man  of  the  laboratory 
won  a  barren  victory.  At  thirty  feet  the  lode  in 
the  shaft  had  dwindled  to  a  few  knife-blade  seams, 
and  the  last  shot  fired  in  the  bottom  of  the  excavation 
put  an  end  to  the  work  of  exploitation  by  letting  in 
a  flood  of  water.  Since  they  had  no  means  of  drain- 
ing the  shaft  so  suddenly  transformed  into  a  well, 
Garvin  gave  over,  perforce,  but  proposed  trying 
their  luck  elsewhere  in  the  valley  before  seeking  a 
new  field.  Jeffard  acquiesced,  with  the  suggestion 
that  they  save  time  by  prospecting  in  different 
directions  ;  and  this  they  did,  Garvin  taking  the 
upper  half  of  the  valley  and  Jeffard  the  lower.  At 
the  end  of  a  week,  Jeffard  gave  up  in  disgust ; 
and  when  his  companion  begged  for  yet  one  other 
day,  was  minded  to  stay  in  camp  and  invite  his  soul 
in  idleness  until  the  persevering  one  shoidd  be 
convinced. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  Garvin's  day  multiplied 
itself  by  three,  and  Jeffard  wore  out  the  interval  as 
best  he  might,  tramping  the  hillsides  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  cabin  to  kill  time,  and  smoking  uncounted 
pipes  on  the  doorstep  in  the  cool  of  the  day  while 
waiting  for  Garvin's  return. 

It  was  in  the  pipe-smoking  interregnum  of  the 
third  day  that  the  abandoned  tunnel  in  the  opposite 
hillside  beckoned  to  him.  Oddly  enough,  he  thought, 
Garvin  had  never  referred  to  it  since  the  retelling  of 


138  TUi:   HELPERS 

its  history  in  tlie  reniiiiisceiit  pauses  of  their  first 
outdoor  evening  together.  JeffarcFs  eye  measured 
the  dump  appraisively.  It  was  a  monument  to  the 
heroic  perseverance  of  the  solitary  pros])eetor. 

"  That  hole  must  be  thirty  or  forty  feet  into  the 
hill,"  he  mused.  "  And  to  think  of  his  worrying  it 
out  alone !  "  Here  idle  curiosity  nudged  him  with 
its  blunt  elbow,  and  he  rose  and  knocked  the  ashes 
from  his  pipe.  "  I  believe  I  '11  go  up  and  have  a 
look  at  it.  It  '11  kill  another  half-hour  or  so,  and 
they  're  beginning  to  die  rather  hard." 

He  crossed  the  stream  on  Garvin's  ancient  foot- 
log,  and  clambered  leisurely  to  the  toe  of  the  dump. 
The  snows  of  two  winters  had  washed  the  detritus 
free  of  soil,  and  Jeffard  bent,  hand  on  knee,  to  look 
for  specimens  of  the  ore-bearing  rock. 

"  Gangue-rock,  most  of  it,  with  a  sprinkling  of 
decomposed  quartz  along  at  the  last,"  he  said  re- 
flectively. "  The  quartz  was  the  dike  he  struck,  I 
suppose.  He  was  wise  to  give  it  up.  There  's  no 
silver  in  that  stuff." 

He  picked  up  a  bit  of  the  snuff-colored  rock  and 
crmnbled  it  in  his  hand.  It  was  quite  friable,  like 
weathered  sandstone,  but  when  the  fragment  was 
crushed  the  particles  still  clung  together  as  if  mat- 
ted with  invisible  threads.  Jeffard  was  too  new  to 
the  business  of  metal-hunting  to  suspect  the  tremen- 
dous significance  of  the  small  phenomenon,  but  he 
was  sufficiently  curious  to  gather  a  double  handful 
of  the  fragments  of  quartz,  meaning  to  ask  GarWn 
if   he  had  noticed  the  peculiarity.     And  when   he 


THE   HELPERS  139 

had  climbed  to  the  tunnel  and  explored  it  to  its 
rock-littered  heading  by  the  light  of  a  sliver  splin- 
tered from  one  of  the  pitchy  logs  of  the  timbering, 
he  sauntered  back  to  the  cabin  beneath  the  western 
cliff  and  made  a  fu-e  over  which  to  prepare  supper 
against  Garvin's  return. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

GAEvm  came  into  camp  late,  and  Jeffard  needed 
not  to  ask  the  result  of  the  day's  quest.  He 
had  cooked  the  simple  supper,  and  they  ate  it 
together  in  silence  —  the  big  man  too  weary  and 
dejected  to  talk,  and  Jeffard  holding  his  peace  in 
deference  to  Garvin's  mood.  Over  the  pipes  on  the 
doorstep  Jeffard  permitted  himself  a  single  query. 

"No  go?" 

"  Nary,"  was  the  laconic  rejoinder. 

Jeffard  was  the  least  demonstrative  of  men,  but 
the  occasion  seemed  to  ask  for  something  more  than 
sympathetic  silence.  So  he  said  :  "  It 's  hard  luck  ; 
harder  for  you  than  for  me,  I  imagine.  Somehow, 
I  have  n't  been  able  to  catch  the  inspiration  of  the 
mineral-hunt ;  but  you  have,  and  you  've  worked 
hard  and  earned  a  better  send-off." 

"•  Huh !  far  as  earnin'  goes,  I  reckon  it  's  a 
stand-off  'twixt  the  two  of  us.  You  've  certain'y 
done  your  share  o'  the  pullin'  and  haulin',  if  you 
have  been  sort  o'  like  what  the  boys  call  a  '  hoodoo.'  " 

Jeffard  blew  a  cloud  of  smoke  toward  the  gray 
rock-beard  hanging  ghostly  beneath  the  black  mouth 
of  the  excavation  in  the  opposite  hiUside,  and  was 
far  from  taking  offense.  "  Meaning  that  I  have  n't 
been  enthusiastic  enough  to  fill  the  bill  ?  "  he  asked. 


THE   HELPERS  141 

"  I  guess  that 's  about  it.  And  it  always  seemed 
sort  o'  cur'ous  to  me.  Money  'd  do  you  a  mighty 
sight  more  good  than  it  would  me." 

Jeffard  smoked  his  pipe  out,  debating  with  him- 
seK  whether  it  was  worth  while  to  try  to  explain  his 
indifference  to  his  companion.  He  did  try,  finally, 
though  more  for  the  sake  of  putting  the  fact  into 
words  than  in  any  hope  of  making  it  understand- 
able to  Garvin. 

"  I  'm  afraid  it  is  n't  in  me  to  care  very  much 
about  anything,"  he  said,  at  the  end  of  the  reflec- 
tive excursion.  "  Six  months  ago  I  coidd  have 
come  out  here  with  you  and  given  you  points  on 
enthusiasm ;  but  since  then  I  've  lived  two  or  three 
lifetimes.  I  'm  a  very  old  man,  Garvin.  One  day, 
not  so  very  long  ago,  if  you  measure  by  weeks  and 
months,  I  was  young  and  strong  and  hopefid,  like 
other  men  ;  but  instead  of  burning  the  candle  de- 
cently at  the  proper  end,  I  made  a  bonfire  of  it. 
The  fire  has  gone  out  now,  and  I  have  n't  any  other 
candle." 

The  big  prospector  was  good-naturedly  incredu- 
lous. "  You  've  had  the  fever,  and  you  're  rattled, 
yet ;  that 's  all  that 's  the  matter  with  you.  You  've 
been  flat  down  on  your  luck,  like  one  or  two  of  the 
rest  of  us  ;  but  that  ain't  any  reason  why  you  can't 
get  up  ag'in,  is  it  ?  " 

Jeffard  despaired  of  making  it  clear  to  any  sim- 
ple-hearted son  of  the  wilderness,  but  he  must  needs 
try  again. 

"  That  is  your  view  of  the  case,  and  it  would  be 


142  THE  HELPERS 

that  of  others  who  knew  tlie  circumstances  as  well  as 
you  do.  But  it  does  n't  fit  the  individual.  David 
said  he  would  wash  his  hands  in  innocency,  and 
perhaps  he  could,  and  did  —  though  I  doubt  it.  I 
can't.  When  you  picked  me  up  that  niglit  on  the 
shore  of  the  pond,  I  'd  been  wandering  around  in 
the  bottomless  pit  and  had  lost  my  way.  I  knew 
then  I  should  n't  find  it  again,  and  I  have  n't.  I 
seem  to  have  strayed  into  a  region  somewhere  be- 
yond the  place  where  the  actual  brimstone  chokes 
you  ;  but  it 's  a  barren  desert  where  nothing  seems 
quite  the  same  as  it  used  to  —  where  nothing  is  the 
same,  as  a  matter  of  fact.     Do  I  make  it  plain  ?  " 

"You  bet  you  don't,"  responded  Garvin,  out  of 
the  depths  of  cheerful  densit3^  "  You  've  been  a 
mile  or  two  out  o'  my  reach  for  the  last  half-hour  'r 
so.  Ther'  ain't  no  use  a-cryin'  over  spilt  milk,  is 
what  I  say ;  and  when  I  go  kerflummix,  why,  I  just 
cuss  a  few  lines  and  get  up  and  mog  along,  same  as 
heretofore." 

Jeffard  laughed,  but  there  was  no  mirth  in  him. 

"  I  envy  you ;  you  are  a  lucky  man  to  be  able 
to  do  it.     I  wish  in  my  soid  I  could." 

"  What 's  the  reason  you  can't  ?  " 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  have  n't  been  able  to 
make  you  understand.  But  the  fact  remains.  The 
Henry  Jeffard  my  mother  knew  is  dead  and  buried. 
In  his  place  has  arisen  a  man  who  is  acquainted 
with  evil,  and  is  skeptical  about  most  other  things. 
Garvin,  if  you  knew  me  as  well  as  I  know  myself, 
you  'd  run  me  out  of  this  valley  with  a  gun  before 


THE  HELPERS  143 

you  slept.  I  owe  you  as  heavy  a  debt  of  gratitude 
as  any  one  man  ever  owed  another,  and  yet  if  your 
welfare  stood  between  the  beginning  and  the  end  of 
some  devil's  service  in  which  I  might  be  commis- 
sioned, you  would  n't  be  safe  to  sleep  in  the  same 
cabin  with  me." 

"  Oh,  you  be  damned,"  said  the  big  man,  relaps- 
ing into  a  deeper  depth  of  incredulity.  "  You  've 
got  a  devil  'r  two,  all  right,  maybe,  but  they  're  the 
blue  kind,  and  they  '11  soak  out  in  the  washin'. 
Fact  o'  the  matter  is,  our  cussed  luck  in  this  yere 
hole  in  the  ground  has  struck  in  on  you  worse  'n  it 
has  on  me.  You  'U  be  all  right  when  we  get  some 
place  else  and  strike  it  rich." 

Jeffard  refilled  his  pipe  and  gave  over  trying  to 
define  himseK  in  set  terms.  When  next  he  broke 
silence  it  was  to  speak  of  the  impending  migra- 
tion. 

"  I  suppose  we  pull  out  in  the  morning?  "  he  said. 

"  Might  as  well.  We  've  played  the  string  out 
up  yere.  Besides,  summer  's  gone,  and  a  month  of 
fall,  and  the  grub  's  runnin'  shy." 

"  Where  next  ?  "  inquired  Jeffard. 

"  I  dunno,  hardly.  'T  ain't  worth  while  to  strike 
furder  in,  this  late  in  the  season.  We  've  got  to  be 
makin'  tracks  along  back  t' wards  the  valley  afore 
the  snow  comes,  and  that  '11  be  pretty  quick  now. 
What  d'  you  say  to  tryin'  some  o'  the  gulches  o'  the 
Mosquito  ?  " 

"  Anywhere  you  say.  I  'm  with  you  —  if  you 
care  to  take  me  after  what  I  've  tried  to  tell  you. 


144  THE  HELPERS 

But  you  'd  much  better  go  alone.  You  had  it  right 
a  wliile  ago :  you  have  yoked  yourself  to  a  Jonah." 

••'  Jonah  nothin' !  "  gi'owled  the  soft-hearted  giant. 
"  Nex'  time  I  set  out  to  devil  you,  I  "11  drill  a  hole 
aforehand  and  put  in  a  pinch  o'  dannymite  along 
with  the  joke.  Then  when  I  tech  it  off,  you  '11 
know." 

The  moon  was  riding  high  in  the  black  arch  of 
the  sky,  and  the  gray  dump  on  the  opposite  moun- 
tain stood  out  in  bold  relief.  Jeffard  rose  and 
leaned  against  the  doorpost. 

"  Garxdn,  you  have  never  yet  told  me  who  staked 
us  for  this  trip,"  he  said,  broaching  a  subject  Avhich 
had  more  than  once  asked  for  speech. 

The  miner  laughed.  "•  You  never  asked.  It 's 
the  same  old  man  that  staked  me  when  I  was  yere 
the  first  time." 

"  ^Tien  you  dug  that  hole  up  yonder  in  the  hill  ?  " 

"  Um— Imi." 

"Who  is  he?" 

Garvin  hesitated.  "  I  had  a  fool  notion  I  would 
n't  tell  you  till  we  'd  struck  somethin'  worth  while," 
he  said  finally.  "  If  so  be  we  've  got  to  go  back 
with  our  fingers  in  our  mouths,  I  put  it  up  that 
maybe  you  'd  feel  easier  in  your  mind  if  you  did  n't 
know.  You  're  so  cussed  thin-skinned  about  some 
things  that  a  feller  has  to  watch  out  for  you  contin- 
nyus." 

Jeffard  dug  the  kindly  intention  out  of  the  up- 
braiding, and  forebore  to  press  the  question.  After 
all,  what  did  it  matter  ?     "Whatever  befell,  he  was 


THE  HELPERS  145 

under  no  obligations  to  any  one  save  Garvin.  And 
in  the  itemizing  of  that  debt,  an  obligation  which 
made  him  restive  every  time  he  thought  of  it,  he 
lost  sight  of  the  question  he  had  intended  asking 
about  the  peculiarity  of  the  snuff -colored  rock  in  the 
abandoned  tunnel. 

A  little  later,  Garvin  got  up  with  a  mighty  yawn, 
and  said  :  "If  we  're  goin'  to  get  out  o'  here  afore 
noon  to-morrer,  I  reckon  we  'd  better  be  huntin'  us 
a  little  sleep." 

"  Turn  in  if  you  hke  ;  I  'm  not  sleepy  yet,"  said 
Jeffard ;  and  when  Garvin  was  gone  in,  he  fell  to 
pacing  up  and  down  before  the  cabin  door  with  his 
hands  behind  him  and  the  cold  pipe  between  his 
teeth. 

To  what  good  end  had  he  been  preserved  by 
Gar^^n's  mterference  on  that  night  of  despair  two 
months  before  ?  Had  the  reprieve  opened  up  any 
practicable  way  out  of  the  cynical  labyi'inth  into 
which  he  had  wandered?  Had  his  immense  obli- 
gation to  the  prospector  quickened  any  fibre  of  the 
dead  sense  of  human  responsibility,  or  lighted  any 
fire  of  generous  love  for  his  kind  ? 

He  shook  his  head.  To  none  of  these  questions 
could  he  honestly  append  an  affirmative.  In  the 
desolate  wreck  he  had  made  of  his  life  no  good 
thing  had  survived  save  his  love  for  Constance 
Elliott.  That,  indeed,  was  hopeless  on  the  side  of 
fruition  ;  but  he  clung  to  it  as  the  one  clue  of 
promise,  hoping,  and  yet  not  daring  to  hope,  that  it 
might  one  day  lead  him  out  of  the  wilderness  of 


146  TlIK   HELPERS 

indifference.  While  he  dwelt  upon  it,  pacing  bax;k 
and  forth  in  the  moonlight,  he  recalled  his  picture 
of  her  standing  in  the  dust-filtered  afternoon  sun- 
light, with  the  dim  corridor  for  a  background. 

"  God  keep  you,  my  darling.  I  may  not  look 
upon  your  face  again,  but  the  memory  of  your 
loving  kindness  to  one  soul-sick  castaway  will  live 
while  he  lives." 

He  said  it  reverently,  turning  his  face  toward  the 
far-away  city  beyond  the  foot-liills ;  and  there  was 
no  subtle  sense  of  divination  to  tell  him  that,  at  an 
unmapped  side-track  on  the  farther  slope  of  the 
southernmost  sentinel  mountain,  Bartrow  was  at  that 
moment  handing  Constance  Elliott  up  the  steps  of  a 
diminutive  sleeping-car  which  was  presently  to  go 
lurching  and  swaying  on  its  y^ay  down  the  mountain 
in  the  wake  of  a  pygiuy  locomotive.  Nor  could  he 
know  that,  a  few  hours  earlier,  the  far-seeing  gray 
eyes,  out  of  whose  depths  he  had  once  drawn  courage 
and  inspiration  and  the  ^\^ll  to  do  good,  had  rested 
for  a  moment  on  the  shut-in  valley. 

For  the  southward  sentinel  mountain  was  known 
to  the  dwellers  on  its  farther  slopes  as  El  Reposo. 


CHAPTER   XV 

Robert  Lansdale,  literary  starveling  and  doomed 
victim  of  an  incurable  malady,  was  yet  sufficiently 
unchastened  to  read  Bartrow's  telegram  with  the 
nerves  of  reluctance  sharp  set.  For  what  he  per- 
suaded himself  were  good  and  defensible  reasons,  he 
had  lived  the  life  of  an  urban  hermit  in  Denver, 
arguing  that  a  poverty-smitten  crumb-gatherer  with 
one  foot  in  the  grave  might  properly  refuse  to  be 
other  than  an  onlooker  in  any  scene  of  the  human 
comedy. 

The  prompting  was  not  altogether  imselfish.  In 
common  with  other  craftsmen  of  his  guild,  Lans- 
dale was  blessed,  or  banned,  with  a  moiety  of  the 
seer's  gift.  For  him,  as  for  all  who  can  discern  the 
masks  and  trappings  and  the  sham  stage-properties, 
the  world-comedy  had  become  pitifully  tragic  ;  and 
he  was  by  nature  compassionate  and  sympathetic. 
Wherefore  he  spared  himself  the  personal  point  of 
view,  cultivating  an  aloofness  which  his  few  friends 
were  prone  to  miscall  cynicism  and  exclusiveness. 

Lansdale  knew  Miss  Elliott  by  repute,  and  he 
shrewdly  suspected  that  she  knew  all  Bartrow  could 
tell  her  about  a  certain  literary  pretender  who  had 
once  been  rude  enough  to  send  apologies  to  a  hostess 
who  had  not  invited  him.     None  the  less   Bartrow 


148  THE   HELPERS 

was  too  fijood  a  frieiul  to  be  ignored  in  the  day  of 
his  asldng ;  and  Lansdale  presented  himself  at  the 
door  of  the  liouse  in  Colfax  Avenue  at  an  nnfashion- 
ably  early  hour,  meaning  to  begin  by  making  the 
tender  of  his  services  as  nearly  a  matter  of  business 
as  might  be. 

It  was  Connie  herself  who  met  him  at  the  door 
and  would  hear  no  more  than  his  name  until  he 
was  established  in  her  father's  easy-chair  before  the 
cheerful  fire  in  the  library.  Her  welcome  was  hos- 
pitably cordial ;  and  Lansdale,  who  had  fondly  im- 
agined embarrassment  to  be  one  of  the  foibles  most 
deeply  buried  under  the  debris  of  the  disillusioning 
years,  found  himself  struggling  with  an  attack  of 
tongue-tied  abashment  which  is  like  to  be  the  pen- 
alty exacted  of  any  hermit  who  refuses  to  mix  and 
mingfle  with  his  kind. 

"  I  came  to  see  you  at  the  request  of  a  friend  of 
yours,  and  of  mine.  Miss  Elliott,"  he  began  formally, 
furabhng  in  his  pocket  for  the  telegram.  "  I  have 
a  message  from  Mr.  Richard  Bartrow  which  —  will 
—  explain  "  — 

The  search  and  the  sentence  raveled  out  together 
in  the  discovery  that  the  telegram  which  was  to  have 
been  his  introduction  had  been  left  on  the  writing- 
table  in  his  room.  Connie  saw  consternation  in  his 
face  and  made  haste  to  help  him. 

"  From  Mr.  Bartrow  ?  We  have  just  returned 
from  a  visit  to  his  mine  up  in  Chaffee  County.  Did 
he  forget  something  that  he  wanted  to  tell  us,  at  the 
last  moment  ?  " 


THE   HELPERS  U9 

"  Really,  I  —  I  can't  say,"  stammered  Lansclale, 
to  whom  the  loss  of  the  telegram  was  the  dragging 
of  the  last  anchor  of  equanimity.  "  It  appears  that 
I  was  thoughtless  enough  to  leave  the  telegTam  in 
my  room.  Will  you  excuse  me  until  I  can  go  back 
and  fetch  it  ?  " 

"  Is  it  necessary  ?  "  Connie  queried.  "  Can't 
you  tell  me  what  he  says  ?  " 

Lansdale  pulled  himseK  together  and  gave  her 
the  gist  of  Bartrow's  mandate.  Miss  Elliott's  laugh 
made  him  forget  his  embarrassment. 

"  That  is  just  like  Dick,"  she  said.  "  He  offered 
to  come  down  with  us  last  night,  but  I  would  n't  let 
him.  You  know  Mr.  Bartrow  quite  well,  do  you 
not?" 

"Very  weU,  indeed." 

"  Then  you  know  how  anxious  he  always  is  to 
help  his  friends." 

"  No  one  has  better  cause  to  know  ;  he  is  one  of 
the  finest  fellows  in  the  world,"  Lansdale  rejoined 
warmly. 

"  Thank  you,  for  Dick's  sake,"  said  Connie ; 
"  now  we  shall  get  on  nicely.  But  to  go  back  a 
little  :  a  young  woman  whom  I  have  been  tryuig  to 
help  is  in  some  trouble,  and  Dick  thought  he  might 
be  needed.  It  was  out  of  the  goodness  of  his  heart. 
I  reaUy  don't  need  any  help  —  at  least,  not  more 
than  my  father's  check-book  can  answer  for." 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  ?  You  must  remember  that 
I  am  Richard  Bartrow's  substitute,  and  make  use  of 
me  accordingly.     May  I  know  the  circumstances  ?  " 


150  THE   HELPERS 

Constance  related  them,  telling  hini  Margaret 
Gannon's  story  as  only  a  sister  of  mercy  could  tell 
it ;  without  extenuation  or  censure,  and  also  without 
embarrassment.  Lansdale  listened  absorbeilly,  with 
the  literary  instinct  dominant.  It  was  Margaret 
Gannon's  story,  but  Constance  Elliott  was  the  hero- 
ine ;  a  heroine  worthy  the  pen  of  a  master  crafts- 
man, he  thought,  while  the  creative  part  of  him  was 
busy  with  the  pulling  and  hauling  and  scene-shifting 
which  the  discovery  of  a  Heaven-born  central  figui'e 
sets  in  motion.  But  in  the  midst  of  it  the  man  got 
the  bett6r  of  the  craftsman.  He  foresaw  with  sud- 
den clarity  of  insight  that  Miss  Elliott  would  pre- 
sently be  of  the  inner  circle  of  those  out  of  whom 
the  most  hardened  votary  of  the  pen  cannot  make 
copy ;  those  whose  personality  is  sacred  because  it 
is  no  longer  a  thing  apart  to  be  dispassionately 
analyzed. 

When  she  made  an  end,  he  sat  looking  at  her  so 
intently  and  so  long  that  she  gi'ew  nervous.  The 
light  in  liis  eyes  made  her  feel  as  if  she  were  focused 
under  the  object  glass  of  a  microscope.  He  saw  the 
enthusiasm  die  out  of  her  face  and  give  place  to  dis- 
composiu-e,  and  made  eager  apologies. 

"  Forgive  me,  Miss  Elliott ;  I  did  n't  mean  to  be 
rude.  But  I  have  never  looked  upon  your  like  be- 
fore, —  a  woman  in  whom  the  quality  of  mercy  is  not 
strained ;  whose  charity  is  compassionate  enough  to 
reach  out  to  the  unfortunate  of  her  own  sex." 

Connie  was  too  simple-hearted  to  be  self-conscious 
under  commendation. 


THE   HELPERS  151 

"That  is  because  your  opportunities  have  been 
unkind,  I  fancy.  A  few  years  ago  your  criticism 
would  have  been  very  just ;  but  nowadays  much  of 
the  rescue  work  is  done  by  women,  as  it  shoukl  be." 

"  Much  of  the  organized  work,  yes.  But  your  own 
story  proves  that  it  has  not  become  individualized." 

"  That  may  well  be  the  faidt  of  the  advocate  in 
Margaret's  case,"  returned  Connie,  whose  charity  was 
not  circumscribed.  "  If  any  one  of  the  many  good 
women  I  have  tried  to  enlist  in  this  young  woman's 
cause  had  been  the  one  to  discover  her,  I  should 
doubtless  have  the  same  story  to  tell,  and  quite  pos- 
sibly with  a  better  sequel.  But  now  you  understand 
why  I  don't  need  help.  Tommie  —  he  's  my  news- 
boy henchman,  you  know  —  has  been  here  this 
morning  to  make  his  report.  It  seems  that  when 
Margaret  was  taken  sick  she  was  in  debt  to  this  man 
Grim  for  costumes,  or  railway  fare,  or  something, 
and  he  has  taken  her  sewing-machine  to  satisfy  the 
claim." 

The  hectic  flush  in  Lansdale's  thin  cheek  began 
to  defme  itself,  with  a  little  pulse  throbbmg  in  the 
centre  of  it. 

"  He  is  an  iniquitous  scoundrel,  and  he  ought  to 
be  prosecuted,"  he  declared.  "  Don't  you  see  ?  —  but 
of  course  you  don't ;  you  are  too  charitable  to  sus- 
pect his  real  object,  which  is  to  drive  the  young 
woman  back  into  the  service  of  his  master,  the  devil. 
He  had  no  more  legal  right  to  take  her  sewing- 
machine  than  he  would  have  to  attach  the  tools  of  a 
mechanic.     Is  there  any  law  in  Colorado  ?  " 


152  THE   HELPERS 

"  Plenty  of  it,"  Connie  rejoined ;  adding,  with 
unconscious  saicasni,  "  but  I  think  it  is  chiefly 
concerned  with  disputes  about  mining  claims." 

"  Let  us  hope  there  is  a  statute  or  two  over  and 
above,  for  the  protection  of  ordinary  mortals,"  said 
Lansdale,  rising  and  finding  his  hat.  "  I  presume 
you  meant  to  buy  Margaret  another  sewing-machine. 
You  mustn't  encourage  buccaneering  in  any  such 
way.  Let  me  go  and  try  my  powers  of  persuasion 
on  Mr.  Peter  Grim." 

But  Connie  was  not  unmindful  of  what  Bartrow 
had  told  them  about  Lansdale's  ill  health,  and  she 
promptly  disapj^roved. 

"•  No,  indeed,  you  must  n't,  Mr.  Lansdale ;  you 
mustn't  think  of  doing  any  such  thing.  You  don't 
know  the  man.  He  is  a  '  hold-over '  desperado  from 
the  stage-line  days.  Even  Dick  admits  that  he  is 
a  person  to  be  feared  and  avoided.  And,  besides, 
you  're  not  strong,  you  know." 

Lansdale  smiled  down  upon  her  from  his  gaunt 
height,  and  his  heart  warmed  to  her  in  a  way  which 
was  not  to  be  accounted  for  by  the  simple  rule  of 
the  humanities. 

"  Dick  told  you  that,  too,  did  he  ?     I  am  sorry." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"Because  it  involves  your  sj^mpathy,  and  sympa- 
thy is  much  too  precious  to  be  wasted  upon  such 
flotsam  as  I.  But  I  am  quite  robust  enough  to  see 
justice  done  in  this  young  woman's  case.  You  must 
promise  me  not  to  move  in  it  until  you  hear  from 
me." 


THE  HELPERS  163 

Connie  promised  and  let  him  go.  But  in  the 
stronger  light  of  the  hall  she  saw  how  really  ill  he 
looked,  and  was  remorsefully  repentant,  after  her 
kind. 

Lansdale  left  the  house  in  Colfax  Avenue  with  an 
unanalyzed  sense  of  levitation,  which  made  him  feel 
as  though  he  were  walking  upon  air ;  but  when  he 
had  accounted  for  the  phenomenon  he  came  to  earth 
again  with  disheartening  celerity.  What  had  a  man 
in  whose  daily  walk  death  was  a  visible  presence  to 
do  with  the  tumult  of  gladsome  suggestion  evoked 
by  a  few  words  of  sympathy  from  a  compassionate 
young  woman  with  a  winsome  face  and  innocent 
eyes  ?  Nothing ;  clearly,  nothing  whatever.  Lans- 
dale set  his  teeth  upon  the  word,  and  drove  the 
suggestion  forth  with  sudden  bitterness.  His  part 
in  the  little  drama  growing  out  of  Miss  Elliott's 
deed  of  mercy  was  at  best  but  that  of  a  supernumer- 
ary. When  he  should  have  made  liis  entrance  and 
exit,  he  must  go  the  way  of  other  supernumeraries, 
and  be  presently  forgotten  of  the  real  actors. 

So  ran  the  wise  conclusion ;  but  the  event  leagued 
itself  with  vmwisdom,  and  the  j)rudent  forecasting 
gave  place  to  the  apparent  necessities.  The  pre- 
liminary interview  with  Grim  was  wholly  abortive. 
The  man  of  ^^ce  not  only  refused  jioint  blank  to 
make  restitution,  but  evinced  a  readiness  to  take  the 
matter  into  the  courts  which  was  most  disconcerting 
to  Margaret  Gannon's  moneyless  advocate.  There- 
upon ensued  other  visits  to  the  house  in  Colfax 
Avenue,  and  a  growing  and  confidential  intimacy 


154  THE  HELPERS 

with  Constance,  and  the  enlisting  of  Stephen  Elliott 
in  the  cause  of  justice,  and  many  other  things  not 
prefigured  in  Lansdale's  itinerary. 

And  at  the  end  of  it  all  it  was  Stephen  Elliott's 
check-book,  and  not  an  appeal  to  the  majesty  of 
the  law,  which  rescued  Margaret  Gannon's  sewing- 
machine  ;  and  the  man  of  vice  pocketed  the  amount 
of  his  extortionate  claim,  and  gave  a  receipt  in  full 
therefor,  biding  his  tune,  and  bidding  an  obsequious 
Son  of  Ahriman  —  the  same  whom  Jeffard  had 
smitten  aforetime  —  keep  an  eye  on  Margaret  Gan- 
non against  the  day  when  she  should  be  sufficiently 
unbefriended  to  warrant  a  recasting  of  the  net. 

And  when  these  things  had  come  to  pass,  Robert 
Lansdale  was  of  all  men  the  most  miserable.  From 
much  dabbhng  in  the  trickling  rill  of  fictional  sen- 
timent, he  had  come  to  disbelieve  the  existence  of 
any  deep  river  of  passion  ;  but  now  he  found  him- 
self upon  the  brink  of  such  a  river  and  was  forbid- 
den to  plunge  therein.  Nay,  more ;  he  must  turn 
away  from  it,  parched  and  thirsty  as  any  wayworn 
pilgrim  of  the  world-desert,  without  so  much  as  lift- 
ing a  palmfid  of  its  healing  waters  to  his  lips. 

Pie  postponed  the  turning  away  from  day  to  day, 
weakly  promising  himself  that  each  visit  to  the  house 
in  Colfax  Avenue  should  be  the  last,  and  as  weakly 
yielding  when  a  day  or  two  of  abstinence  had  en- 
hanced liis  soid-hunger  until  it  became  a  restless 
agony,  mocking  his  most  strenuous  effort  to  dro\vn 
it  in  a  sea  of  work. 

Failing  himself  utterly,  he  fell  to  watching  Con- 


THE  HELPERS  155 

nie's  face  for  some  token  of  the  hopelessness  of  his 
passion,  telling  himself  that  he  should  find  strength 
to  stay  away  when  he  should  read  his  sentence  in 
the  calm  gray  eyes.  But  Connie's  eyes  were  as  yet 
no  more  than  frankly  sympathetic.  And  because 
he  was  far  from  home,  and  seemingly  friendless, 
and  fighting  the  last  grim  battle  with  an  incurable 
malady,  she  made  him  welcome  and  yet  more  wel- 
come, until  finally,  the  optimistic  insanity  of  the 
consumptive  came  upon  him,  assuring  him  that  he 
shoiUd  live  and  not  die,  and  pointing  him  hopefully 
down  a  dim  vista  of  years,  —  a  shining  way  wherein 
they  two  might  walk  hand  in  hand  till  they  shoidd 
come  to  the  gate  of  the  House  Beautiful  whose  chat- 
elaine is  Fame. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

The  line  of  retreat  from  the  valley,  called  by 
Jeffard  "  of  dry  bones,"  to  the  possible  land  of  pro- 
mise in  the  Mosquito,  lay  through  Leadville ;  not 
the  teeming,  ebullient,  pandemoniae  mining-camp  of 
the  early  carbonate  era,  but  its  less  crowded,  less 
effervescent,  though  no  less  strenuous  successor  of 
the  present. 

On  the  march  across  the  sky-pitched  mountains 
it  had  been  agreed  between  them  that  there  should 
be  one  bivouac  in  the  city  of  the  bleak  altitudes. 
That  is  to  say,  Garvin  proposed  it,  and  Jeffard  as- 
sented, though  not  without  a  premonition  that  the 
halt  would  be  fatal  to  the  proposed  Mosquito  sequel 
to  the  campaign  in  the  Saguache.  He  knew  at  least 
one  of  Garvin's  weaknesses,  and  that  it  was  akin 
to  his  own.  There  were  the  beast  of  burden  and 
the  dispensable  moiety  of  the  camping  outfit  to  sell, 
and  pro\dsion  to  buy  ;  and  Jeffard  weighed  his  com- 
panion in  the  balances  of  his  own  shortcomings.  He 
was  well  assured  that  he  coidd  not  trust  himself 
with  money  in  his  hand  in  any  such  city  of  chance- 
ful opportunity  as  the  great  carbonate  camp;  and 
arraigning  Garvin  at  the  bar  of  the  same  tribunal, 
he  judged  him  before  the  fact. 


THE   HELPERS  157 

It  was  a  measure  of  the  apathetic  indifference 
which  possessed  Jeffard  that  the  premonition  gave 
him  scant  concern.  He  marveled  inwardly  when 
the  fact  of  indifference  defined  itself.  Aside  from 
any  promptings  of  common  hnman  gratitude  evolv- 
ing themselves  into  friendly  solicitude  for  the  man 
who  had  tAvice  saved  his  life,  —  promptings  which 
he  found  dead  because  he  looked  to  find  them  dead, 
—  there  was  this  :  If  his  companion  should  stumble 
and  spill  the  scanty  residue  in  the  common  purse 
the  wolf-pack  of  famine  and  distress  would  be  at 
their  heels  in  a  single  sweep  of  the  clock-hands.  And 
yet  the  fact  remained. 

Jeffard  was  cogitating  vaguely  this  curious  mani- 
festation of  mental  and  moral  inertia  when  the  city 
of  the  altitudes  came  into  view  over  the  crest  of  the 
final  ascent  in  the  toilsome  journey.  The  smoke 
from  the  smelters  was  trailing  lazily  toward  the  dis- 
tant Mosquito,  and  a  shifting  cmnidus  of  steam 
marked  the  snail-like  advance  of  a  railway  train  up 
the  steep  grade  from  Malta.  California  Gidch  and 
the  older  town  were  hidden  behind  the  moimtain  of 
approach  ;  but  the  upper  town  and  its  western  envi- 
rons lay  stark  in  the  hazeless  atmosphere,  with  the 
snow-splotched  background  of  the  nearer  range,  up- 
tilted  and  immense,  dwarfing  the  houses  into  hutch- 
like  insignificance.  Dreary  as  is  this  first  view  of 
the  Mecca  of  wealth-seekers,  it  has  quickened  the 
pulse  and  brightened  the  eye  of  many  a  wayworn  pil- 
grim of  the  mountain  desert ;  but  Jeffard' s  thought 
was  in  his  question  to  Garvin. 


158  THE   HELPERS 

"  Is  it  as  near  as  it  looks  ?  or  is  it  as  far  away  as 
this  cursed  no-atmosphere  removes  everything?  " 

"  It  *s  a  good  ten  mile  'r  so,  yet.  If  we  get  a 
move  on,  we  11  make  it  by  sundown,  maybe." 

They  trani])tHl  on  in  silence,  the  singing  silence  of 
the  crystalline  heights,  measuring  mile  after  mile  at 
the  heels  of  the  patient  burro,  and  reaching  the 
scattering  outposts  of  the  western  suburb  wliile  yet 
the  sun  hung  hesitant  above  the  peaks  of  the  main 
range.  The  nearer  aspect  of  the  great  mining-camp 
was  inexpressibly  depressive  to  Jeffard.  The  weath- 
ered buildings,  franldy  utilitaiian  and  correspond- 
ingly unbeautiful ;  the  harsh  sterility  of  the  rocky 
soil ;  the  rutliless  subordination  of  all  things  to  the 
sordid  purposes  of  money-getting  ;  these  were  the 
stage-settings  of  a  scene  which  moved  him  curiously, 
like  the  fmnes  of  a  mingled  cup,  intoxicating,  but 
soul-nauseating,  withal.  The  nausea  was  a  conse- 
quent of  the  changed  point  of  view,  and  he  knew  it ; 
but  it  was  no  whit  less  grievous.  Wherefore  he 
groped  in  the  pool  of  indifference  until  he  found  a 
small  stone  of  protest. 

"  Let  us  do  what  we  have  to  do  and  get  away 
from  here  quickly,  Garvin,"  he  said,  flinging  the 
stone  with  what  precision  there  was  in  him. 

They  had  turned  into  the  principal  street,  and  the 
burro  became  reluctant.  Garvin  smote  the  beast 
from  behind,  and  took  a  turn  of  the  halter  around 
its  jaw. 

'  (loin'  to  gig  back  for  the  crowd,  ain't  you  ?  "  he 
growled,  apostrophizing  the  jack ;  and  then  to  Jef- 


THE   HELPERS  159 

fard :  "  Makes  you  sort  o'  town-sick,  I  reckon.  I 
know  tlie  feel  of  it ;  used  to  catch  it,  reg'lar,  ever' 
time  I  'd  get  in  from  the  range.  It  '11  wear  off 
after  a  day  'r  so ;  but,  as  you  say,  the  quick  way  to 
do  it  up  is  to  light  out  ag'iu,  suddint." 

"  The  sooner  the  better,"  said  Jeffai'd.  "  The 
atmosphere  of  the  place  is  maddening." 

Garvin  took  the  word  literally  and  laughed. 
"  'T  ain't  got  no  atmosphere  to  speak  of,  —  that 's 
what 's  the  matter  with  it ;  too  blame'  high  up  for 
any  use." 

They  were  in  the  thick  of  the  street  traffic  by  this 
time,  and  it  required  their  united  malisons  joined  to 
what  of  energy  and  determination  the  long  day's 
march  had  left  them  to  keep  the  ass  from  planting 
itself  monument-wise  in  the  middle  of  the  street. 

"  Dad  burn  a  canary,  anyhow !  "  grumbled  the 
man  of  the  wilderness,  when  they  were  resting  a 
moment  in  front  of  a  shackly  building  on  the  corner 
of  a  cross  street.  "  For  ornerary,  simon-pure,  b'iled- 
down,  soul-killin'  "  —  His  vocabidary  of  objurga- 
tory expletives  ran  short,  and  he  wrought  out  the 
remainder  of  the  malediction  with  a  dumb  show  of 
violence. 

Jeffard  smiled  in  spite  of  his  mood,  which  was 
anything  but  farcical,  and  pointed  to  the  haversack 
of  specimens  dangling  from  the  loosened  pack. 

"  We  're  about  to  lose  the  samples,"  he  said. 

Garvin  regained  his  wonted  good-himior  at  a 
plunge. 

"  That  'd  be  too  blame'  bad,  would  n't  it,  now ; 


160  THE  HELPERS 

they  're  so  blazin'  precious !  S'pose  you  lug  'em 
acrost  youder  to  that  there  assay-shop  whilst  I  toll 
the  canary  down  to  the  corral.  When  you  get  shut 
o'  the  rocks,  come  on  round  to  the  boardin '-house,  — 
'  Miner's  Rest,'  —  a  block  furder  along  and  two  to 
your  right.  I  '11  meet  you  there  bime-by,  if  there  's 
anything  left  o'  me  after  I  get  through  with  this 
dad-burned,  lop-eared  totin'-machine." 

Jcffard  shouldered  the  bag  of  samples,  but  before 
he  could  reply  the  opportunity  fled  clamorous.  The 
lop-eared  one,  finding  itself  free  for  the  moment, 
gave  heed  to  a  foolish  bee  buzzing  in  its  atomic 
brain,  and  went  racing  down  the  cross  street,  with 
the  l)ig  miner  in  hot  pursuit. 

"  Exit  James  Garvin,"  quoth  Jeffard,  moved  to 
smile  again ;  and  he  crossed  the  avenue  to  the 
shackly  building  with  the  sign  of  the  assayer  be- 
sprent upon  the  windows. 

When  he  tried  the  door  and  found  it  locked,  and 
the  littered  room  beyond  it  empty,  he  was  minded  to 
go  on  to  the  rendezvous  while  daylight  served.  But 
when  he  reflected  that  Garvin  would  be  sui'e  to 
await  an  assayer's  verdict  on  the  samples,  and  so 
prolong  their  stay  in  the  city  of  banality,  he  decided 
to  conclude  the  business  affair  first.  So  he  went  up 
and  down  and  around  and  about,  and  found  all  the 
assay  offices  closed  for  the  day  save  one,  whose  occu- 
pant, a  round-bodied  little  German,  with  the  face  of 
a  cherub,  martialized  by  the  huge  mustachios  of  a 
cuirassier,  was  still  at  his  bench.  Jeffard  guessed 
at  the  little  man's  nationality,  and  made  a  shrewd 
bid  for  celerity. 


THE  HELPERS  161 

"  Guten  abend,  mein  Heri\'  lie  said,  unslinging 
his  haversack. 

The  cherubic  face  of  the  expatriated  one  responded 
quickly  to  the  greeting  in  the  loved  mother-tongue. 

"  Wie  gehts,  wie  gehts,  mein  guter  Herr"  he  re- 
joined ;  and  then  in  broken  English :  "I  haf  not 
dot  Cherman  before  heard  spoken  in  dis  Gott-for- 
saken  blaces.     You  haf  some  sambles  gebracht  ?  " 

"  Ja,  mein  Hervr 

"  Gut!  I  vill  of  dem  de  tests  maig.  JVicht 
tvahr  f  " 

"  Gef'dlligst,  mein  lieber  Herr ;  and  quickly,  — 
we  must  go  on  our  way  again  to-morrow." 

"So  qvick?  Ach!  das  ist  nicht  sehr  gut.  You 
vill  der  poor  olt  assay-meister  maig  to  vork  on  der 
nide.  But  because  you  haf  der  goot  Cherman  in 
your  moud  I  vill  it  do.     Vat  you  haf  ?  " 

Jeffard  unwrapped  the  samples  one  by  one,  and 
the  assayer  examined  them  with  many  dubious  head- 
shakings.  The  amateur  made  haste  to  anticipate 
the  preliminary  verdict. 

"  I  know  they  're  valueless,"  he  admitted,  "  but 
I  have  a  partner  who  will  require  your  certificate 
before  he  will  be  convinced.  Can  you  let  us  know 
to-morrow  ?  " 

"  Because  you  haf  der  Cherman,  yes.  But  it  vill 
be  no  goot;  der  silwer  iss  not  dere " — including 
the  various  specimens  in  a  comprehensive  gesture. 

Jeffard  turned  to  go,  slinging  the  lightened  haver- 
sack over  his  shoulder.  At  the  door  he  bethous^ht 
him  of  the  curious  fragment  of  quartz  picked  up  on 


162  THE    IIPXPERS 

the  dump  of  the  abandoned  tunnel.  It  was  in  his 
pocket,  and  he  rummaged  till  he  found  it. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  anything  about  this  ? "  he 
asked.  "  It  seems  to  be  a  decomposed  quartzite, 
matted  on  a  base  of  some  sort,  —  a  metal,  I  should 
say." 

The  little  German  snatched  the  bit  of  quartz,  and 
ogled  it  eagerly  through  his  eye-glass. 

"  Mei?i  Gott  im  Himmel!  "  he  cried ;  and  the  eye- 
glass fell  to  the  floor  and  rolled  under  the  bench. 
"  Iss  it  possible  dot  you  know  him  not  ?  Dot  iss 
golt,  mein  lieber  Jreund,  —  \are  golt,  reech,  reech  ! 
Vera  you  got  him  ?  Haf  you  got  some  more  von 
dis?" 

Jeffard  took  it  in  vaguely,  and  tried  to  remember 
what  he  had  done  with  the  handful  of  similar  frag- 
ments gathered  at  the  same  time.  It  came  to  him 
presently.  He  had  emptied  his  pocket  into  the 
haversack  on  the  morning  of  the  departure  from  the 
valley  what  time  Garvin  was  seeking  the  strayed 
burro. 

He  unslung  the  canvas  bag  and  poured  the  hand- 
ful of  gravel  on  the  bench.  The  assayer,  trembling 
now  with  repressed  excitement,  examined  the  snuff- 
colored  quartz,  bit  by  bit,  with  a  guttural  ejaculation 
for  each.  "  Donnerwetter  1  He  gifs  me  feerst  der 
vorthless  stones  to  maig  of  dem  de  assay,  und  den 
he  viU  ask  me  von  leedle  qvestion  about  dis  —  dis 
maknificend  bonansa !  Ach !  mein  freund !  haf 
you  got  v'ld  of  dis  precious  qvartz ?  " 

"  Why,  yes ;  there 's  a  good  bit  of  it,  I  believe," 


THE  HELPERS  163 

replied  Jeffard,  still  uuawake  to  the  magnitude  of 
the  discovery. 

"  Und  you  cau  find  der  blaces  again  ?  Dink 
aboud  it  now —  dink  hardt !  " 

Jeffard  smiled.  "  Don't  get  excited,  mein  Herr. 
I  know  the  place  very  well,  indeed ;  I  left  it  only 
three  days  since."      • 

"  Gut ;  sehr  gut  !  Now  go  you  ;  go  und  leef  me 
to  mein  vork.  Come  you  back  in  der  morgen^  und 
I  vill  tell  you  dot  you  are  reech,  reech  !  Go,  mein 
frennd,  mit  der  goot  Chermau  in  your  moud  —  und 
Gott  go  mit  you." 

Jeffard  felt  his  way  down  the  dark  stair,  and  so 
on  out  into  the  lighted  street,  still  only  in  the  mid- 
dle ground  between  realization  and  the  bare  know- 
ledge of  the  fact.  He  was  conscious  of  some  vague 
recurrent  effort  to  surround  the  incredible  thing ; 
and  conscious,  too,  that  it  grew  and  spread  with 
each  succeeding  attempt  to  measure  it  until  no  mere 
human  arms  could  girdle  it. 

Not  yet  did  it  occur  to  him  to  place  himself  at  the 
nodus  of  discovery  and  possession.  The  miracidous 
thing  was  for  him  quite  a  thing  apart ;  and  when 
he  had  advanced  far  enough  into  the  open  country 
of  realization  to  look  a  little  about  him,  his  thought 
was  wholly  for  Garvin  and  the  effect  upon  him  of 
this  sudden  projection  into  the  infinite.  He  tried 
to  imagine  the  simple-hearted  prospector  as  a  man 
of  affluence,  and  laughed  aloud  at  the  grotesque 
figure  conjured  up  by  the  thought.  What  woidd 
Garvin  do  with  his  money  ?     Squander  it  royally, 


1G4  T«E   HELPERS 

like  a  loyal  son  of  fortune,  and  think  the  world  well 
lost,  Jeffard  decided. 

The  hissing  gasoline  torch  of  a  street  fakir  flaretl 
gustily  in  the  keen  night  wind  sweeping  down  from 
the  Mosquito,  and  the  scintillant  arc-stars  at  the 
corners  began  to  take  on  frosty  aureoles  of  prismatic 
hues.  The  crowds  on  the  resonant  plank  sidewalks 
sti'eamed  boisterous  and  masterful,  as  if  the  plangent 
spirit  of  time  and  place  were  abroad.  fTeffaid  came 
to  earth  again  in  the  rude  jostling  of  the  throng. 
While  he  speculated,  Garvin  —  Garvin  the  inex- 
pectant  —  was  doubtless  awaiting  him  at  the  place 
appointed.  He  must  hasten  thither  to  be  the  bearer 
of  the  good  news  to  the  unspoiled  one. 

Looking  about  him  to  get  his  bearings,  he  found 
himself  in  front  of  the  deserted  assay  office  on  the 
spot  where  he  had  jDarted  from  Garvin.  "  One 
square  down  and  two  to  the  right,"  he  said,  repeat- 
ing Garvin's  directions  ;  and  he  set  out  to  trudge 
them  doggedly,  lagging  a  little  from  honest  leg- 
weariness.  In  the  last  half  of  the  third  square 
there  was  a  screened  doorway,  and  the  click  of  cel- 
luloid counters  came  to  his  ears  from  the  brilliantly 
lighted  room  beyond.  At  the  sound  the  embers  of 
the  fire  kindled  months  before  glowed  afresh  and 
made  his  heart  hot. 

"  Ah,  you  're  there  yet,  are  you  ?  "  he  said,  speak- 
ing to  the  stirring  passion  as  if  it  were  a  sentient 
entity  within  him.  "  Well,  you  '11  have  to  lie  down 
again  ;  there  's  no  meat  on  the  bone." 

At  the  designated  corner  he  found  the  rendezvous. 


THE   HELPERS  165 

It  was  a  hostelry  of  the  baser  sort,  with  a  bar-room 
dominant,  and  eating  and  sleeping  conveniences 
—  or  inconveniences  —  subsidiary.  The  clatter  of 
knives  and  forks  on  ironstone  cliina  came  from  the 
ill-smelling  dining-room  in  the  rear,  and  the  bar- 
room held  but  one  occupant.  It  was  Garvin ;  he 
was  sitting  at  one  of  the  card-tables  \vith  his  head  in 
his  arms.  He  looked  up  when  Jeffard  entered,  and 
his  smile  was  of  fatigue. 

"  Hello,  there  ;  thought  you  'd  gone  and  got  lost 
in  the  shuffle.     Get  shut  of  'em?  " 

Jeffard  nodded. 

"  No  good,  I  reckon  ?  " 

"  No  ;  nothing  that  we  've  found  this  summer. 
But  you  're  a  rich  man,  just  the  same,  Garvin." 

"  Yes  ;  I  've  cashed  in  on  the  outfit,  and  I  've  got 
twenty  dollars  in  my  inside  pocket.  Let 's  go  in  and 
chew  before  them  fellers  eat  it  all  up." 

"  Don't  be  in  a  hurry  ;  the  kind  of  supper  we  '11 
get  here  can  wait.  I  said  you  are  a  rich  man,  and 
I  meant  it.  You  remember  the  old  hole  up  in  the 
hillside  above  the  camp,  —  the  one  you  struck  a 
'  dike '  in  two  years  ago  ?  " 

"  Reckon  I  ain't  likely  to  forget  it." 

"  WeU,  that  '  dike '  was  decomposed  quartz  carry- 
ing free  gold.  I  was  curious  enough  to  put  a  hand- 
ful of  the  stuff  into  my  pocket  and  bring  it  out. 
The  assayer  's  at  work  on  it  now,  and  he  says  it  '11 
run  high  —  up  into  the  hundreds,  I  imagine.  Is 
there  much  of  it  ?  " 

The  effect  of  the  annoimcement  on  the  unspoiled 


106  THE   HELPERS 

one  was  like  that  of  an  electric  shock.  He  staggered 
to  his  feet,  went  white  under  the  bronze,  and  flung 
his  arms  about  Jelfard. 

"  Hooray  !  "  he  shouted  ;  "  that  old  hole  —  that 
same  derned  old  hole  'at  I  've  cussed  out  more  'n  a 
million  times  !  Damn  my  fool  soul,  but  I  knew  you 
was  a  Mascot  —  knew  it  right  from  the  jump  !  Come 
on  —  let 's  irrigate  it  right  now,  'fore  it 's  a  minute 
older  !  " 

It  was  out  of  the  depth  of  pure  good-fellowship 
that  Jeffard  went  to  the  bar  with  the  fortune-daft 
mmer.  Not  all  the  vicissitudes  of  the  breathless 
rush  down  the  inclined  plane  had  been  sufficient  to 
slay  the  epicure  in  him ;  and  the  untidy  bar  reeked 
malodorous.     But  the  occasion  was  its  own  excuse. 

Garvin  beat  upon  the  bar  with  his  fist,  and  the 
roar  of  his  sununons  drowned  the  clatter  of  knives 
and  forks  in  the  adjacent  dining-room.  The  bar- 
tender came  out,  ^viping  his  lips  on  the  back  of  his 
hand. 

"  What  '11  it  be,  gents  ?  " 

"  The  best  you  've  got  ain't  good  enough,"  said 
Garvin,  with  un^vitting  sarcasm.  "Trot  her  out  — 
three  of  a  kind.  It 's  on  me,  and  the  house  is 
in  it." 

The  man  spun  two  glasses  across  the  bar,  and  set 
out  a  black  bottle  of  dubious  aspect.  Knowing  his 
own  stock  in  trade,  he  di'ew  hiniseK  a  glass  of  Apol- 
linaris  water. 

Jeffard  sniffed  at  the  black  bottle  and  christened 
his  glass  sparingly.     The  bou(iuet  of  the  hquor  was 


THE   HELPERS  1G7 

an  entire  round  of  dissipation  with  the  subsequent 
headache  thrown  in.  Garvin  tilted  the  bottle  with 
trembUng  hand,  and  filled  his  glass  to  the  brim. 
The  object-lesson  was  not  thrown  away  upon  the 
epicure. 

"  Here 's  to  the  derned  old  hole  with  a  cold  mil- 
lion in  it,"  said  the  miner,  naming  the  toast  and 
draining  his  glass  in  the  same  breath.  And  then  : 
"  Come  again,  barkeep' ;  drink  water  yourself,  if 
you  want  to,  but  the  red  likker  's  good  enough  for 
us.  What  do  ye  say,  pardner  ?  We  're  in  it  at  last, 
plum  up  to  the  neck,  and  all  on  account  o'  that 
derned  old  hole  '  at  I  've  cussed  out  a  mil —  Here  's 
lookin'  at  ye." 

Jeffard  merely  moistened  his  lips  the  second 
time,  and  the  object-lesson  exemplified  itself.  Gar- 
vin had  brimmed  his  glass  again,  and  the  contents 
of  the  black  bottle  were  adulterant  poisons.  Where- 
fore he  cut  in  quickly  when  Garvin  would  have 
ordered  again. 

"  That  '11  do,  old  man  ;  a  little  at  a  time  and  often, 
if  you  must,  but  not  on  an  empty  stomach.  Let 's 
get  the  money  before  we  spend  it." 

The  latter  part  of  the  warning  had  sjjecial  signi- 
ficance for  the  bartender,  who  scowled  ommously. 

"  Lemme  see  the  color  o'  yer  money,"  he  com- 
manded. "  K  youse  feUies  are  runnin'  futiu-es  on 
me"  — 

Now  Garvin  had  been  living  the  life  of  an  ancho- 
ret for  many  weeks,  and  the  fumes  of  the  fiery  liquor 
were    already  momiting  to  his  brain.     For  wliich 


1G8  THE   HELPERS 

cause  the    bartender's  insinuation  was  as   spark  to 
tow. 

"  Futures  ?  "  he  yelled,  throwing  down  a  ten-dollar 
bill  with  a  mighty  buffet  on  the  bar  ;  "  them 's  the 
kind  o'  futures  we  're  drinkin'  on  right  now !  Why, 
you  thick-lii3ped,  mealy-mouthed  white  nigger,  you, 
I  '11  come  down  here  some  day  and  buy  the  floor  out 
from  in  under  your  feet ;  see  ?  Come  on,  pardner  ; 
let 's  mog  along  out  o'  here  'fore  I  'm  tempted  to 
mop  up  his  greasy  floor  with  this  here  "  — 

There  was  hot  wrath  in  the  bartender's  eyes,  and 
Jeffard  hustled  the  abusive  one  out  of  the  place 
lest  a  worse  thing  should  follow.  On  the  sidewalk 
he  remembered  what  Garvin  had  already  foi'got- 
ten,  and  went  back  for  the  change  out  of  the  ten- 
dollar  bill,  dropping  it  into  his  pocket  and  rejoining 
his  companion  before  the  latter  had  missed  him. 
Thereupon  ensued  a  war  of  words.  The  newly 
belted  knight  of  fortune  was  for  making  a  night  of 
it ;  and  when  Jeffard  would  by  no  means  consent  to 
this,  Gar-vdn  insisted  upon  going  to  the  best  hotel  in 
the  city,  where  they  might  live  at  large  as  prospec- 
tive millionaires  should. 

Jeffard  accepted  the  alternative,  and  constituted 
himself  bearward  in  ordinary  to  the  half-crazed  son 
of  the  wilderness.  He  saw  difficulties  ahead,  and 
the  event  proved  that  he  did  not  overestimate  them. 
What  a  half-intoxicated  man,  bent  upon  becoming 
wholly  intoxicated,  may  do  to  make  thorny  the  path 
of  a  self-constituted  guardian  Garvin  did  that  night. 
At  the  hotel  he  scandalized  the  not  too  curious  clerk, 


THE   HELPERS  1G9 

and  became  the  centre  of  an  appreciative  group  in 
the  rotunda  what  time  Jeffard  was  pleading  the 
mitigating  circmnstances  with  the  hesitant  deputy 
proprietor.  In  the  midst  of  the  plea,  when  Jeffard 
had  consented  to  assume  all  responsibihty  for  his 
companion's  vagaries,  Garvin  broke  cover  in  the 
direction  of  the  bar-room,  followed  by  a  tail  of 
thirsty  ones. 

"  You  say  you  kiiow  him  ?  "  said  the  clerk  tenta- 
tively. 

"  Know  him  ?  Why,  yes ;  he  is  my  partner. 
We  are  just  in  from  the  range,  and  he  has  struck  it 
rich.  It 's  a  little  too  much  for  him  just  now,  but 
he  '11  quiet  down  after  a  bit.  He  is  one  of  the  best 
fellows  alive,  when  he  's  sober ;  and  this  is  the  first 
time  I  've  ever  seen  him  in  liquor.  Two  drinks  of 
bad  whiskey  did  it." 

"  Two  drinks  and  a  surfeit  of  good  luck,"  laughed 
the  clerk.  "  Well,  we  'U  take  him  ;  but  you  must 
keep  him  out  of  the  way.  He  'U  be  crazy  drmik  in 
less  than  an  hour.     Been  to  supper  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Better  have  it  sent  to  your  room.  He  is  n't  fit 
to  go  to  the  dining-room." 

"  AU  right ;  have  a  bell-boy  ready,  and  I  '11  knock 
him  down  and  drag  him  out,  if  I  can." 

That  was  easier  said  than  done.  Jeffard  found 
the  foolish  one  in  the  bar-room,  drinking  ad  libitum^ 
and  holding  forth  to  a  circle  of  interested  hearers. 
Garvin  had  evidently  been  recounting  the  history  of 
the   abandoned  claim,  and  one  of  the  listeners,  a 


170  THE   HELPERS 

hawk-faced  man,  with  sliifty  black  eyes,  was  endeav- 
oriivf]^  to  thaw  him  aside.  lie  succeeded  just  as 
Jeffard  thrust  his  way  into  the  circle,  and  the  self- 
elected  bearwarden  caught  the  whispered  question 
and  its  answer. 

"You  say  you  located  her  two  years  ago?" 
queried  the  hawk-faced  one. 

"  No ;  that 's  the  joke  o'  the  whole  shootin'- 
match,  —  thess  like  I  was  a-telhn'  ye."  Garvin's 
speech  ran  back  to  its  native  Tennessee  idiom  at 
the  bidding  of  intoxication.  "  She  ain't  nev'  been 
located  yit  ;  and  if  it  had  n't  'a'  been  for  that  derned 
little  sharp-eyed  pardner  o'  mine  "  — 

The  questioner  turned  quicldy  to  the  bar. 

"  Drinks  all  round,  gentlemen — on  me."  Then 
to  Garvin  in  the  cautious  undertone  :  "  You  said 
she  was  over  in  Stray  Horse  Vallej^,  did  n't  you  ?  " 

Garvin  fell  into  the  trap  headlong.  "Not  much 
I  did  n't !  She  's  a-sniigglin'  down  under  one  o'  the 
bigges'  peaks  in  the  Saguache,  right  whar  she  can 
listen  to  the  purhn'  o'  the  big  creek  that  heads 
in  "  — 

There  was  no  time  for  diplomatic  interference. 
Jeffard  locked  his  arm  about  Gar\'in's  head,  and 
dragged  the  big  man  bodily  out  of  the  circle. 

"  You  fool !  "  he  hissed.  "  Will  you  pitch  it  into 
the  hands  of  the  first  man  that  asks  for  it  ?  Come 
along  out  of  this !  " 

Garvin  stood  dazed,  and  a  murmur  of  disapproval 
ran  through  the  group  of  thirsters.  The  hand  of 
the  hawk-faced  one  stole  by   imperceptible  degrees 


THE   HELPERS  171 

toward  his  hip  pocket.  Jeffard  stopped  it  with  a 
look. 

"  You  have  had  fun  enough  with  my  partner  for 
one  evening,  gentlemen,"  he  said  sternly.  "  Come 
on,  Jim  ;  let 's  go  to  supper." 

And  the  thirsters  saw  them  no  more. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

It  was  midnight  and  worse  before  the  lately  belted 
knight  of  fortune  had  outworn  the  hilarious  and 
entered  upon  the  somnolent  stage  of  the  little  jour- 
ney insensate,  and  when  the  thing  could  be  done, 
Jeffard  put  him  to  bed  with  a  paean  of  thanksgiving 
which  was  none  the  less  heartfelt  for  being  un- 
vocalized. 

Having  thus  set  his  hand  to  Garvin's  plough,  there 
was  no  alternative  but  to  turn  the  furrow  to  the  end  ; 
wherefore,  to  guard  against  surprises,  he  hid  the 
boots  of  the  bottle-mad  one,  barricaded  the  door  with 
his  own  bed,  and  lay  down  to  doze  with  eyelids  ajar. 
At  least  that  was  the  alert  determination ;  but  the 
event  proved  that  he  was  weary  enough  to  sleep 
soundly  and  late,  and  it  was  seven  o'clock,  and  the 
brealtfast  caller  was  hammering  on  the  door,  when 
he  opened  his  eyes  on  the  new  day.  Naturally,  his 
first  thought  was  for  his  companion,  and  the  sight 
of  the  empty  bed  in  the  farther  corner  of  the  room 
brought  him  broad  awake  and  afoot  at  the  same 
saltatory  moment.  The  son  of  fortune  was  gone, 
and  an  open  door  into  the  adjoining  room  accounted 
for  the  manner  of  his  going. 

Five  minutes  later,  picture  an  anxious  brother- 
keeper  making  pointed  inquiries  of  the  day-clerk 


THE   HELPERS  173 

below  stairs.  Instant  question  and  answer  fly  back 
and  forth  shuttle-wise,  one  may  suppose,  weaving 
suspicion  into  a  firm  fabric  of  fact.  Two  men 
whose  names,  or  whose  latest  aliases,  were  How- 
ard and  Lantermann,  had  occupied  the  room  next 
to  Jeffard's,  —  quite  chancefully,  the  clerk  thinks. 
They  had  left  at  an  early  hour  ;  their  call  was  for  — 
one  moment,  and  he  (the  clerk)  will  ascertain  the 
exact  time. 

Whereupon  one  may  fancy  an  exasperated  bear- 
warden  cursing  exactnesses  and  beating  with  im- 
patient fist  upon  the  counter  for  the  major  fact. 
The  fact,  extorted  at  length,  is  simple  and  conclu- 
sive. The  two  men  had  come  down  some  time 
between  five  and  six  o'clock,  with  a  third  as  a  middle 
link  in  a  chain  of  locked  arms.  One  of  the  two  had 
paid  the  bill,  and  they  had  all  departed ;  by  way  of 
the  bar-room  and  the  side  entrance,  as  the  clerk 
remembers. 

Whereat  JefPard  is  moved  to  swear  strange  oaths  ; 
is  swearing  them,  in  point  of  fact,  when  the  omnibus 
from  an  early  train  shunts  its  cargo  of  arrivals  into 
the  main  entrance.  Among  the  incomers  is  a  big 
fellow  with  a  drooping  mustache  and  square-set 
shoulders,  who  forthwith  drops  his  handbag  and 
pounces  upon  Jeffard  with  greetings  boisterous. 

"  Well,  I  '11  be  shot !  —  or  words  to  that  effect " 
(hand-wringiugs  and  shoulder-clappings).  "  Now 
where  on  top  of  God's  green  earth  did  you  tumble 
from  ?  Begin  away  back  yonder  and  give  an  ac- 
count of  yourself  ;  or,  hold  on,  —  let  me  write  my 


174  THE   HELPERS 

name  in  the  book  and  then  you  can  toll  me  while  we 
eat.  By  Jove,  old  man !  I  'm  foolishly  glad  to  see 
you  !  " 

Jeffard  cut  in  quickly  between  the  large-hearted 
protest  and  the  signing  of  the  register. 

"  Just  a  second,  Bartrow  ;  let  the  breakfast  wait, 
and  hsten  to  me.  I  'm  in  no  end  of  a  tangle,  and 
you  're  the  man  of  all  others  to  help  me  out  if  any 
one  can.  Do  you  happen  to  know  a  fellow  named 
Garvin?" 

"  Don't  I  ?  '  Tennessee  Jun,  P.  P.,'  —  that  stands 
for  perennial  prospector,  you  know.  Sure.  He  's 
of  the  salt  of  the  earth  ;  rock  salt,  but  full  flavored. 
I  know  him  hke  a  book,  though  I  had  n't  seen  him 
for  a  dog's-age  until  —  but  go  on." 

Jeffard  did  go  on,  making  the  occasion  one  of  the 
few  which  seemed  to  justify  the  setting  aside  of 
indirection. 

"  We  were  partners  ;  we  have  been  out  together 
all  summer.  He  has  struck  it  rich,  and  has  gone 
clean  daft  in  the  lilt  of  it.  I  can't  get  hmi  sober 
long  enough  to  do  what  may  be  necessary  to  secure 
the  claim.  The  sharks  are  after  him  hot  foot,  and 
if  they  can  succeed  in  soaking  the  data  out  of  him, 
they  will  jump  the  claim  before  he  can  get  it  located 
and  recorded." 

Bartrow  laughed,  "  That 's  just  like  Jim  :  ordi- 
narily, he  does  n't  drink  as  much  whiskey  in  a  year 
as  most  men  do  in  a  week.  But  if  that 's  your  only 
grief  you  can  come  to  breakfast  with  me  and  take 
your  time  about  it.     Later  on,  when  we  've  smoked 


THE   HELPERS  175 

a  few  lines  and  brought  up  the  arrears  of  gossip, 
we  '11  hold  a  council  of  war  and  see  what  you  're  to 
do  about  the  potential  bonanza." 

"  But  I  can't  do  anything  ;  it 's  Garvin's,  I  teR 
you." 

"  Well,  you  are  partners  in  it,  are  n't  you  ?  " 

Jeffard  had  another  fight  with  an  ingrained  reserve 
which  was  always  blocking  the  way  to  directness 
and  promptmg  him  to  leave  the  major  fact  unstated. 

"  We  are  not  partners  in  this  particidar  claim. 
It 's  an  old  discovery  of  Garvin's.  He  di'ove  the 
tunnel  on  it  two  years  ago  and  then  abandoned  it. 
He  was  looking  for  tellurides  and  opened  a  vein 
of  free-gold  quai'tz  without  knowing  what  he  had 
found." 

"  Then  it 's  nobody's  claim,  as  it  stands ;  or 
rather  I  should  say  it 's  anybody's.  You  —  or 
rather  Garvin  —  will  have  to  beg^in  at  the  besfin- 
ning,  just  as  if  it  were  a  new  deal ;  go  back  and 
post  a  notice  on  the  ground  and  then  come  out  and 
record  it.  And  if  it 's  Garvin's  claim,  as  you  say, 
he 's  got  to  do  this  in  person.  Nobody  can  do  it  for 
him.  You  can't  turn  a  wheel  till  you  get  hold  of 
Jim,  and  that 's  what  makes  me  say  what  I  '  does.' 
Let 's  go  in  and  eat." 

"  But,  Dick  ;  you  don't  understand  "  — 

"  Yes,  I  do ;  and  I  happen  to  know  a  thing  or 
two  about  this  deal  that  you  don't.  You've  got  the 
whole  forenoon  before  you ;  you  are  as  safe  as  a 
house  up  to  twelve  o'clock.     Come  on." 

"  I  say  you  don't   understand.     You  called  it  a 


176  THE   HELPERS 

'  potential  bonanza '  just  now,  meaninj^  that  it 
wouldn't  make  so  very  much  difference  if  it  were 
never  recorded.  But  it 's  a  bonanza  in  fact.  If 
Rittenberger  knows  what  he  is  talking  about,  it  is 
the  biggest  strike  of  the  year,  by  long  odds.  I  don't 
know  much  about  such  things,  but  it  seems  to  me  it 
ouaht  to  be  secured  at  once  and  at  all  hazards." 

"  Kittenberger,  you  say  ?  —  the  little  Dutchman  .'' 
You  can  bank  on  what  he  tells  you,  every  time.  I 
did  n't  know  you  'd  been  to  an  assayer.  What  is 
the  figure?" 

"  I  don't  know  that.  I  left  the  sample  with  him 
last  night,  and  was  to  call  this  morning  for  the  certi- 
ficate. But  the  little  man  bubbled  over  at  the  mere 
sight  of  it." 

"  Good  for  old  Jim  !  So  much  the  better.  Never- 
theless, as  I  say,  you  've  an  easy  half -hour  in  which 
to  square  yourself  with  me  over  the  ham  and  eggs 
and  what-not,  and  plenty  of  time  to  do  what  there  is 
to  be  done  afterward.  You  can't  do  anything  but 
wait." 

"  Yes,  I  can  ;  I  can  find  Garvin  and  make  sure  of 
him.      Don't  you  see  "  — 

"  I  see  that  I  '11  have  to  tell  you  all  I  know  —  and 
that 's  something  you  never  do  for  anybody  —  be- 
fore you  '11  be  reasonable.  Listen,  then :  I  saw  your 
chump  of  a  partner  less  than  an  hour  ago.  He  was 
with  two  of  his  old  cronies,  and  all  three  of  them 
were  pretty  well  in  the  push,  for  this  early  in  the 
morning.  They  boarded  the  train  I  came  up  on, 
and  that  is  why  1  say  you  're  safe  till  noon.     There 


THE   HELPERS  177 

is  no  train  from  the  west  till  twelve-seven.  I  know 
Jim  jjretty  well,  and  at  his  foolishest  he  never  quite 
loses  his  grip.  He  had  it  in  mind  that  he  ought  to 
fight  shy  of  something  or  somebody,  and  he  's  given 
you  the  slip,  dodged  the  enemy,  and  gone  off  on  a 
three-handed  spree  all  in  a  bunch.  There  now,  does 
that  clear  up  the  mystery  ?  " 

Jeffard  had  caught  at  the  counter-rail  and  was 
gradually  petrifying.  Here  was  the  worst  that  could 
have  befallen,  and  Bartrow  had  suspected  nothing 
more  than  a  drunken  man's  frolic. 

"  Gone  ?  —  with  two  men,  you  say  ?  Can  you 
describe  them?" 

"  Ro uglily,  yes  ;  they  were  Jim  's  kind  —  miners 
or  prospectors.  One  of  them  was  tall  and  thin  and 
black,  and  the  other  was  rather  thick-set  and  red. 
The  red  one  was  the  drunkest  of  the  three." 

"  Dressed  like  miners  ?  "  Jeffard  had  to  fight  for 
the  "  s's."     His  tongue  was  thick  and  his  lips  dry. 

"  Sure." 

"  That  settles  it,  Dick,  definitely.  Last  night 
those  two  fellows  were  dressed  Kke  men  about  town 
and  wore  diamonds.  They  've  soaked  their  informa- 
tion out  of  Garvin,  and  they  are  on  their  way  to 
locate  that  claim." 

It  was  Bartrow's  turn  to  gasp  and  stammer. 
"  What  ?  — locate  the  — -  Caesar's  ghost,  man,  you  're 
daft  !     They  would  n't  take  Garvin  with  them  !  " 

"  They  would  do  just  that.  In  the  fu'st  place, 
with  the  most  accurate  description  of  the  locality 
that  Garvin,  drunk,  could  give  them,  there  would  be 


178  THE   HELPERS 

the  uncertainty  of  finding  it  without  a  guide.  They 
know  that  they  have  left  a  sane  man  behind  them 
who  can  find  the  way  back  to  the  chiim ;  and  their 
only  chance  was  to  take  Garvin  along,  keeping  him 
drunk  enough  to  be  unsuspicious,  and  not  too  drunk 
to  pilot  them.  Once  on  the  ground  ahead  of  me, 
and  with  Garvin  in  their  power,  they  can  do  the 
worst." 

Bartrow  came  alive  to  the  probabilities  in  the 
catching  of  a  breath.  "  Which  will  be  to  kiU  Gar- 
vin safely  out  of  the  way,  post  the  claim,  and  snap 
their  fingers  at  the  world.  Good  Lord  !  —  and  I 
let  'em  knock  him  down  and  drag  him  out  under  my 
very  eyes  !     I  'd  ought  to  be  shot." 

"  It 's  not  your  fault,  Dick ;  it 's  mine.  I  saw 
what  was  in  the  wind  last  night,  and  stuck  to  Garvin 
till  I  got  him  to  bed.  I  was  dog-tired,  —  we  'd  been 
tramping  all  day,  —  and  I  thought  he  was  safe  to 
sleep  the  clock  aromid.  I  hid  his  boots,  dragged 
my  bed  across  the  door,  and  went  to  sleep." 

"  You  coidd  n't  have  done  less  — or  more.  What 
happened?" 

"  This.  Those  two  fellows  had  the  room  next  to 
us,  and  there  was  a  door  between.  They  slipped  him 
out  this  morning  before  I  was  awake." 

"  Of  course ;  all  cut  out  and  shaped  up  before- 
hand. But,  thank  the  Lord,  there  's  a  ghost  of  a 
chance  yet.     Where  is  the  claim  ?  " 

"  It  is  three  days'  march  a  little  to  the  south  of 
west,  on  the  headwaters  of  a  stream  which  flows  into 
the  Gunnison  River." 


THE    HELPERS  179 

"  And  the  nearest  railroad  point  ?  " 

"  Is  Aspen.  If  I  remember  correctly,  Garvin  said 
it  was  about  twenty  miles  across  the  range." 

"  Good.  That  accounts  for  the  beginning  of  the 
race  ;  they  '11  go  to  Aspen  and  take  horses  from 
there.  But  I  don't  understand  why  they  took  the 
long  line.  There  are  two  railroads  to  Aspen,  and 
one  of  them  is  an  hour  and  twenty  minutes  longer 
than  the  other.  That 's  your  chance,  and  the  only 
one,  —  to  beat  'em  to  the  end  of  the  railroad  run. 
How  are  you  fixed  ?  " 

"  For  money,  you  mean  ?  I  have  the  wreck  of  a 
ten-dollar  note  and  a  hotel  bill  to  pay." 

Bartrow  spun  around  on  his  heel  and  shot  a  sud- 
den question  at  the  hotel  clerk,  the  answer  to  which 
was  inaudible  to  Jeffard.  But  Bartrow's  rejoinder 
was  explanatory. 

"  Rooms  over  the  bank,  you  say  ?  That 's  lucky." 
This  to  the  clerk ;  and  then  to  Jeffard  :  "  Come 
along  with  me ;  this  is  no  time  to  stick  at  trifles. 
You  've  got  to  have  money,  suddenly,  and  plenty  of  it." 

But  Jeffard  hung  back. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  Dick  ?  " 

"  Stake  you  and  let  you  try  for  a  special  engine 
over  the  short  line.  Those  feUows  took  the  long 
way  around,  as  I  say,  —  why,  I  don't  know,  because 
both  trains  leave  at  the  same  time.  The  running 
time  the  way  they  have  gone  is  five  hours  and  forty- 
five  minutes.  By  the  other  line  it 's  only  four  hours 
and  twenty-five  minutes.     Savez?  " 

"  Yes,  but  "  — 


180  THE   HELPERS 

"  Weed  out  the  '  buts  '  and  come  along.  We  're 
due  to  rout  a  man  out  of  bed  and  make  liim  oj^en  a 
bank  vault.  I  can't  put  my  hand  into  my  pocket 
for  you,  as  I  'd  like  to  ;  but  I  know  a  banker,  and 
my  credit 's  good." 

They  found  the  cashier  of  the  Carbonate  City 
National  in  the  midst  of  his  toilet.  He  was  an 
Eastern  man  of  conservative  habit,  but  he  was  suf- 
ficiently Occidentalized  to  grasp  the  main  points  in 
Bartrow's  terse  narrative,  and  to  rise  to  the  inexor- 
able demands  of  the  occasion. 

"  You  know  the  rule,  Mr.  Bartrow,  —  two  good 
names ;  and  I  don't  know  your  friend.  But  this 
seems  to  be  an  eighteen-carat  emergency.  Take 
that  key  and  go  down  the  back  way  into  the  bank. 
You  '11  find  blank  notes  on  the  public  desk.  ]\Iake 
out  yoiu'  paper  for  what  JNIr.  Jeffard  will  need,  and 
I  '11  be  with  3'ou  in  half  a  minute." 

They  found  the  way  and  the  blank,  which  latter 
Bartrow  hastily  filled  out,  indorsed,  and  handed  to 
Jeffard  for  signature.  It  was  for  five  hundred  dol- 
lars, and  the  proletary's  hand  shook  when  he  dijjped 
the  pen. 

"  It 's  too  much,"  he  protested  ;  "  I  can't  stand 
it,  Dick.  It  is  like  putting  a  whetted  sword  into 
the  hands  of  a  madman." 

That  was  his  fii'st  reference  to  the  past  and  its 
smirched  record,  and  Bartrow  promptly  toppled  it 
into  the  abyss  of  generalities. 

"  Same  old  hair-splitter,  are  n  't  you  ?  What 's 
the  matter  with  you  now  ?  " 


THE   HELPERS  181 

"  You  know  —  better  than  any  one.  I  am  not  to 
be  trusted  with  any  such  sum  of  money." 

"  Call  it  Garvin's,  then.  I  don't  know  how  you 
feel  toward  Jim,  but  I've  always  found  him  a  man 
to  tie  to." 

A  woman  would  have  said  that  Jeffard  turned 
aside  to  hide  an  upflash  of  emotion,  though  a  clot  on 
the  pen  was  the  excuse.  But  it  was  the  better  part 
of  him  that  made  answer. 

"  I  owe  him  my  life  —  twice,  Dick.  By  all  the 
known  hypotheses  of  honor  and  gratitude  and  com- 
mon decency  I  ought  to  be  true  to  him  now,  in  this 
his  day  of  helplessness.  But  when  one  has  eaten  and 
drunk  and  slept  with  infamy  "  — 

The  cashier's  step  was  on  the  stair,  and  Bartrow 
cut  in  swiftly. 

"  Jeffard,  you  make  me  weary  !  —  and,  inciden- 
tally, you  're  killing  precious  time.  Can't  you  see 
that  trust  is  n't  a  matter  of  much  or  little  ?  If  you 
can't,  why  just  name  the  amount  for  which  you  'd 
be  tempted  to  drop  Garvin,  and  we  '11  cut  under  it 
so  as  to  be  on  the  safe  side." 

"But  I  sha'n't  need  a  fifth  of  this,"  Jeffard 
objected,  wavering. 

"  You  are  liable  to  need  more.  You  must  re- 
member that  ten  minutes  hence  you  '11  be  trying  to 
subsidize  a  railroad  company.  Sign  that  note  and 
quit  quibbling  about  it." 

The  thing  was  done,  but  when  the  money  had 
changed  hands,  Jeffard  quibbled  again. 

"  If  the  worst  comes,  you  can't  afford  to  pay  that 


182  THE   HELPERS 

note,  Bartrow  ;  and  my  i)iobability  hangs  on  a  hun- 
dred hazards.     AVhat  if  I  fail  ?  " 

Tlie  eashier  had  unlocked  the  street  door  for 
them,  and  Bartiow  ran  the  splitter  of  hairs  out  to 
the  sidewalk. 

"  You  're  not  going  to  fail  if  I  can  ever  succeed 
in  getting  you  in  motion.  Good  Lord,  man !  can't 
you  wake  up  and  get  a  grip  of  the  situation  ?  It 
is  n't  the  mere  saving  or  losing  of  the  bonanza  ;  it 's 
sheer  life  or  death  to  Jim  Garvin  —  and  you  say 
you  owe  him.  Here,  —  this  cab  is  as  good  as  any. 
Midland  office,  my  man ;  half  time,  double  fare. 
Don't  spare  the  leather." 

At  eight-ten  to  the  minute  they  were  negotiating 
with  the  superintendent's  chief  clerk  for  a  special 
engine  to  Aspen.  Whereupon,  as  is  foreordained 
in  such  crises,  difficulties  midtiplied  themselves, 
while  the  office  clock's  decorous  jDcndulum  ticked  off 
the  precious  margin  of  time.  Bartrow  fought  this 
battle,  fought  it  single-handed  and  won  ;  but  that 
was  because  liis  weapon  was  invincible.  The  prelim- 
inary passage  at  arms  vocalized  itself  thus  :  — 

Tim  Clerks  mindful  of  his  superior's  moods,  and 
reflectively  dubitant :  "  I  'm  afraid  1  have  n't  the 
authority.  You  will  have  to  wait  and  see  the  super- 
intendent.    He'll  be  down  at  nine." 

Bartrow :  "  Make  it  a  dollar  a  mile." 

The  Clerk :  "  Can't  be  done  ;  or,  at  least,  I  can't 
do  it.  We  're  short  of  motive  power.  There  is  n't 
an  engine  fit  for  the  run  at  this  end  of  the  division." 

Burtroio :  "  Say  a  hundred  and  fifty  for  the  trip." 


THE   HELPERS  183 

The  Clerh:  "I'm  afraid  we  couldn't  make  it, 
anyhow.  We  'd  have  to  send  a  caller  after  a  crew, 
and"  — 

Bartroio,  sticking  to  his  single  text  like  a  phono- 
graph set  to  repeat :  "  Call  it  a  hundred  and  seventy- 
five." 

The  Clerk^  in  a  desperate  aside :  "  Heavens !  I 
wish  the  old  man  would  come  !  "  —  and  aloud  — 
"  Say,  I  don't  believe  we  could  better  the  passenger 
schedule,  even  with  a  light  engine.  It 's  fast  — 
four  hours  and  twenty-five  "  — 

Bartroio  :  "  Make  it  two  hundred." 

Jeffard  counted  out  the  money  while  the  office 
operator  was  calling  the  engine-dispatcher  ;  and  at 
eight-twenty  they  were  pacing  the  station  platform, 
waiting  for  the  ordered  special.  Bartrow  looked  at 
his  watch. 

"  If  you  get  away  from  here  at  eight-thirty,  you  '11 
have  three  hours  and  thirty-five  minutes  for  the  run, 
which  is  just  fifty  minutes  better  than  the  regadar 
schedule.  It  '11  be  nip  and  tuck,  but  if  your  engineer 
is  any  good  he  '11  make  it.  Do  you  know  what  to 
do  when  you  reach  Aspen  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes ;  I  '11  meet  Garvin  when  his  train 
arrives,  cut  him  out  of  the  tangle  with  the  sharks,  get 
him  on  a  horse  and  ride  for  life  across  the  range." 

"  That 's  the  scheme.  But  what  if  the  other  fel- 
lows object?" 

Jeffard  straightened  himself  unconsciously.  "  I  'm 
not  uu  certain  on  that  side ;  I  can  fight  for  it,  if  that 
is  what  you  mean." 


184  THE   HELPERS 

Bartrow  looked  liim  up  and  do^vn  with  a  smile 
wliit'li  was  griinly  approbative.  "Your  summer's 
done  you  a  whole  lot  of  good,  Jeffard,  You  look 
like  a  grown  man." 

"  As  I  did  n't  when  you  last  saw  me.  But  I  'm 
afraid  I  am  neither  better  nor  worse,  Dick,  — 
morally." 

"  Nonsense !  You  can't  help  being  one  or  the 
other.  And  that  reminds  me :  you  have  n't  ac- 
counted for  yourself  yet.  Can  you  do  it  in  the 
hollow  of  a  minute  ?  " 

"  Just  about.  Garvin  picked  me  out  of  the  gutter 
and  took  me  with  him  on  this  prospecting  trip. 
That 's  all." 

"  But  you  ought  to  have  left  word  with  somebody. 
It  was  rough  on  your  friends  to  drop  out  as  if  you  'd 
dodffed  the  undertaker." 

"  Who  was  there  to  care  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  cared,  for  one ;  and  then  there  is 
Lansdale,  and  —  and  "  — 

"  I  know,"  said  Jeffard  humbly.  He  was  hungry 
for  news,  but  he  went  fasting  on  the  thinnest  paring 
of  inquiiy.     "  Does  she  remember  me  yet?" 

Bartrow  nodded.  "  She  's  not  of  the  forgetting 
kind.  I  never  go  to  Denver  that  she  does  n't  ask 
me  if  I  've  heard  of  you.  But  that 's  Connie  Elliott, 
every  day  in  the  week.  She  's  got  a  heartful  of  her 
own  just  now,  too,  I  take  it,  but  that  does  n't  make 
any  difference.  She's  everybody's  sister,  just  the 
same." 

"A  —  a  heartful  of  her  own,  you  say?     I  don't 


THE   HELPERS  185 

quite  understand."  Jeffard  was  staring  intently 
down  the  empty  railway  yard,  and  the  glistening 
lines  of  steel  were  blurred  for  him. 

It  was  a  situation  for  a  bit  of  merciful  diplomacy, 
but  Bartrow  the  tactless  blundered  on  remorselessly. 

''  Why,  yes,  —  with  Lansdale,  you  know.  I 
don't  know  just  how  far  it  has  gone,  but  if  I  were 
going  to  put  money  on  it,  I  'd  say  she  would  let  her 
life  be  shortened  year  for  year  if  his  could  be  spun 
out  in  propoi'tion." 

Jeffard  brought  himself  up  with  a  savage  turn. 
Who  was  he  that  he  should  be  privileged  as  those 
who  are  slain  in  any  honorable  cause  ? 

"  Lansdale  is  no  better,  then  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  Sometimes  he  thinks  he  is. 
But  I  guess  it 's  wi-itten  in  the  book ;  and  I  'm 
sorry  —  for  his  sake  and  hers.  There  comes  your 
automobile." 

A  big  engine  was  clanking  up  through  the  yard, 
but  Jeffard  did  not  turn  to  look  at  it.  He  was 
wringing  Bartrow's  hand,  and  trying  vainly  to  think 
of  some  message  to  send  to  the  woman  he  loved. 
And  at  the  end  of  it,  it  went  unsaid.  One  of  the 
clerks  was  waiting  with  the  train-order  when  the 
engine  steamed  vip  ;  and  Jeffard  was  fain  to  clamber 
to  his  place  in  the  cab,  full  to  the  lips  with  tender 
embassies,  which  would  by  no  means  array  them- 
selves in  words. 

Bartrow  waited  till  he  coidd  fling  his  God-speed 
up  to  the  cab  window.  It  took  the  form  of  a  part- 
ing injunction,  and  neither  of  them  suspected  how 
much  it  would  involve. 


18G  THE   HELPERS 

"  If  you  need  backing  in  Aspen,  look  up  Mark 
Denby.  He  's  a  good  friend  of  mine  ;  an  all-around 
business  man,  and  a  guardian  angel  to  fellows  with 
holes  in  the  ground  and  no  ready  money.  Hunt 
him  up.  I  '11  wire  your  introduction  and  have  it 
there  ahead  of  you.     Off  you  go  —  good  luck  to 

you!" 

And  at  the  word  the  big  engine  lifted  its  voice 
with  a  shout  and  a  bell-clang,  and  shook  itseK  free 
for  the  race. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

From  LeadviUe  to  the  point  in  the  sky-line  of  the 
Continental  Divide  where  the  southern  shoulder  of 
Mount  Massive  dips  to  Hagerman's  Pass,  the  rail- 
way grade  climbs  with  the  old  Glenwood  trail ;  and 
when  Malta  was  left  behind  and  the  ascent  fairly 
begun,  Jeffard  had  fleeting  glimpses  of  the  road 
over  which  he  and  Garvin  and  the  patient  burro  had 
toiled  eastward  the  day  before.  From  outer  curves 
and  promontories  doubled  at  storming  speed  the 
hoof -beaten  trail  flicked  into  view  and  disappeared  ; 
and  at  times  the  brief  vistas  framed  a  reminiscent 
picture  of  two  foot-weary  pilgrims  plodding  doggedly 
in  the  wake  of  a  pack-laden  ass. 

It  was  impossible  to  conceive  that  these  phan- 
toms belonged  to  to-day's  yesterday.  The  crowding 
events  of  a  few  hours  had  already  pushed  them  into 
a  far-away  past ;  their  entities  were  lost  in  the 
kaleidoscopic  whirl  which  had  transformed  the  two 
men  no  less  than  their  prefigurings.  What  had  the 
foolish  witling  raving  yonder  on  his  way  to  despoil- 
ment and  death  with  the  two  plunderers  in  common 
with  the  self-contained  son  of  the  wilderness,  who 
had  but  yesterday  been  his  brother's  keeper  in  a 
world  of  disheartenment  ?  And  this  other  ;  steam- 
hurrying  on  his  way  to  the  same  goal,  with  set  jaw 


188  THE   HELPERS 

and  tight  lips  and  resolute  purpose  in  his  eyes  ;  by 
how  much  or  little  could  he  be  identified  with  the 
undeterniinatc  one,  whose  leaden-footed  trudgings 
the  storming  locomotive  was  taking  in  reverse? 

Through  some  such  cycle  the  wheel  of  reflection 
rolled  around  to  its  starting  point  in  things  present, 
and  Jeffard  awoke  to  the  moving  realities  of  steep 
grades  and  breath-cutting  curves,  yawning  abysses 
and  hurtling  cliffs,  flitting  backward  to  the  caco- 
phone  ohhUgato  of  the  exhaust  and  the  clangorous 
cries  of  racking  machiner3\  The  engineer  braced 
on  his  box  was  a  muscidar  giant,  with  the  jaw  of  a 
prizefighter,  and  steel-gray  eyes  that  had  long  since 
looked  death  out  of  countenance.  Jeffard  took  his 
measure  in  an  appraisive  glance.  "If  your  engineer 
is  good  for  anything,"  Bartrow  had  said;  and  the 
glance  slew  the  conditional  doubt.  What  a  fearless 
driver  of  fast  locomotives  might  do  toward  reversing 
the  fate  of  the  besotted  one  would  be  done. 

In  the  mean  time  the  race  was  to  the  judicious 
rather  than  to  the  swift.  The  interminable  succes- 
sion of  grades  and  curves  clogged  the  wheels,  and 
the  great  engine  snorted  and  wallowed  on  its  upward 
way,  slomng  down  at  times  until  the  throbbing  puffs 
of  the  escaping  steam  seemed  to  beat  no  more  than 
leisurely  minuet-time.  But  the  climbing  miles  to 
the  summit  of  the  pass  were  measured  doggedly,  if 
not  Nvith  speed.  No  trifling  advantage  of  tangent 
or  "  let-up  "  was  passed  without  fresh  spurrings  of 
the  throttle;  and  when  the  engine  swept  around  the 
long  curve  which  is  the  approach  to  the  telegraph 


THE   HELPERS  189 

station  at  the  summit  tunuel,  the  engineer  glanced 
at  his  watch  and  nodded  across  to  his  passenger. 

"  We  're  goin'  to  make  it,"  he  said,  in  answer  to 
Jeffard's  shouted  inquiry.  "  It  '11  be  a  close  call, 
but  the  old  Ninety-seven  's  a  bird," 

At  the  station  the  operator  tossed  a  telegram 
through  the  cab  window.  It  was  from  Bartrow,  and 
its  major  purpose  was  to  give  the  figures  of  the 
assay,  which  he  had  obtained  from  the  little  German. 
They  were  sufficiently  significant,  and  Bartrow's 
added  urgings  were  unnecessary.  "  I  'm  standing 
over  the  train  dispatcher  here  with  a  club,"  he 
wired.  "  Don't  make  any  economical  mistake  at 
your  end  of  the  string." 

The  engineer  had  finished  oiling  aroimd  and  had 
clambered  back  to  his  box.  The  water  supply  was 
replenished,  and  the  fireman  was  uprearing  the  tank- 
spout.  Jeffard  crossed  the  footboard  and  thrust  a 
little  roll  of  bank  notes  between  the  fingers  of  the 
brawny  hand  on  the  throttle  lever.  The  engineer 
smoothed  the  bills  on  his  knee  and  wagged  his  head 
as  one  doubtful. 

"  That 's  pretty  well  up  to  a  month's  pay." 

"  Well,  you  are  going  to  earn  it." 

"  Better  keep  it  till  I  do,"  said  the  stalwart  one, 
offering  it  back. 

"  No  ;  I  'm  not  afraid  to  pay  you  in  advance. 
You  are  going  to  do  your  best,  and  I  am  not  trying 
to  bribe  you.  It 's  yours,  whether  we  make  it  or 
not." 

The  big  man  thrust  the  biUs  into  his  pocket  and 


190  THE  HELPERS 

opened  the  throttle.  "You  go  over  there  and  sit 
down  and  hold  your  hair  on,"  he  commanded. 
"  I  'm  goin'  to  break  the  record  when  we  get  out 
into  daylight  on  the  other  side  o'  the  mountain." 

Jeffard  was  still  groping  for  hand  and  foot  holds 
on  the  fireman's  seat  when  the  locomotive  rolled  out 
of  the  western  portal  of  the  summit  tunnel  and  the 
record-breaking  began.  Of  the  brain-benumbing 
rush  down  the  gorges  of  the  Frying  Pan  on  a  flying 
locomotive,  one  recalls  but  a  confused  memory ;  a 
phantasmagoric  jumble  of  cliffs  and  chasms,  back- 
ward-flitting forests  and  gyrating  mountain  peaks, 
trestles  and  culverts  roaring  beneath  the  drumming 
wheels,  the  shrieks  of  the  whistle  and  the  intermit- 
tent stridor  of  escaping  steam  in  the  iron  throat  of 
the  safety-valve ;  a  goblin  dance  of  matter  in  motion 
to  a  war  blast  of  chaotic  uproar.  One  sets  the 
teeth  to  endure,  and  comes  back  to  the  cosmic  point 
of  view  with  a  deep-drawn  sigh  of  relief  when  the 
goblin  dance  is  over,  and  the  engine  halts  at  the 
junction  where  the  Aspen  branch  leaves  the  main 
line  and  crosses  the  Frying  Pan  to  begin  the  ascent 
of  the  Roaring  Fork. 

From  this  jioint  the  competing  railways  parallel 
each  other,  and  at  the  junction  the  trains  on  either 
line  are  within  whistle  call.  To  the  engineer's  ques- 
tion the  telegraph  operator  nodded  an  affirmative. 

"  Yep  ;  she  's  just  gone  by.  That 's  her  whistlin' 
for  Emma  now.  What 's  the  rush  ?  —  backed  to 
beat  her  into  Aspen  ?  " 

The  engineer  nodded  in  his  turn,  and  signed  the 


THE   HELPERS  191 

order  for  the  right  of  way  on  the  branch.  A  min- 
ute later  the  junction  station  was  also  a  memory, 
and  Jeffard  was  straining  his  eyes  for  a  glimpse  of 
the  passenger  train  on  the  other  line.  A  short  dis- 
tance to  the  southward  the  rival  lines  meet  and  cross, 
exchano'ing  river  banks  for  the  remainder  of  the 
run  to  Aspen.  The  passenger  train  was  first  at 
the  crossing,  and  Jeffard  had  his  glimpse  as  the 
engine  slackened  speed.  Not  to  lose  a  rail-length 
in  the  hard-fought  race,  Jeffard' s  man  ran  close  to 
the  crossing  to  await  his  turn,  and  the  light  engine 
came  to  a  stand  within  pistol  shot  of  the  train,  which 
was  slowly  clanking  over  the  crossing-frogs.  Jeffard 
slipped  from  his  seat  and  went  over  to  the  engineer's 
gangway.  It  would  be  worth  something  if  he  could 
make  sure  that  Garvin  was  on  the  train. 

The  espial  was  rewarded  and  punished  in  swift 
sequence.  The  trucks  of  the  smoking  -  car  were 
jolting  over  the  crossing,  and  Jeffard  saw  the  head 
and  shoulders  of  the  insane  one  filling  an  open  win- 
dow. It  was  conspicuously  evident  that  Garvin  had 
drained  the  bottle  to  the  frenzy  mark.  He  was 
yelling  like  a  lost  soul,  and  shaking  impotent  fists  at 
the  halted  engine.  Jeffard's  eye  measured  the  dis- 
tance to  the  moving  car.  It  was  but  down  one 
embankment  and  up  the  other. 

"  That 's  my  man,"  he  said  quickly  to  the  en- 
gineer,    "  Do  you  suppose  I  could  make  it  across  ?  " 

"  Dead  easy,"  was  the  reply  ;  and  Jeffard  swung 
down  to  the  step  of  the  engine  to  drop  off.  The 
impulse  saved  his  life.     As  he  quitted  his  hold  a 


192  THE  HELPERS 

hairy  arm  bared  to  the  elbow  was  thrust  out  of  the 
window  next  to  the  yelling  maniac.  There  was  a 
glint  of  sun-rays  on  poUshed  metal,  and  a  pistol  ball 
bit  out  the  corner  of  the  cab  under  the  engineer's 
arm-rest.  JefPard  desisted,  and  climbed  to  his  place 
when  the  moving  train  gathered  headway. 

"  Damn  a  crazy  loon,  anyway,"  said  the  engineer, 
much  as  one  might  pass  the  time  of  day.  "  They  'd 
ought  to  have  sense  enough  to  take  his  gam  away 
from  him." 

Jeffard  explained  in  a  sentence.  "  It  was  n't 
the  crazy  one  ;  it  was  one  of  the  two  cut-throats 
who  are  kidnaping  him  —  the  fellows  I  'm  trying 
to  beat." 

"  The  fellers  you  're  goin'  to  beat,"  corrected  the 
engineer.  "  We  '11  head  'em  off  now  if  the  Ninety- 
seven  goes  in  on  three  legs.  The  gall  o'  the  cusses ! 
—  why,  they  might  ha'  shot  somebody!  " 

From  the  crossing  in  the  lower  valley  neither  line 
encounters  any  special  obstacle  to  speed ;  and  under 
equal  conditions  a  locomotive  race  uj)  the  Roaring 
Fork  might  be  an  affair  of  seconds  and  rail  lengths 
for  the  victor.  But  the  light  engine  wath  regardless 
orders  speedily  distanced  the  passenger  train  with 
stops  to  make  ;  and  when  the  smokes  of  the  moun- 
tain-girt town  at  the  head  of  the  valley  came  in 
sight,  the  big  engineer  pulled  his  watch  and  shouted 
triumphant :  — 

"  Eleven  -  forty,  —  and  their  time  's  twelve  -  five. 
We  '11  be  twenty  minutes  to  the  good  in  spite  o'  "  • — 

It  is  conceivable  that  he  would  have  used  a  strong 


THE   HELPERS  193 

figiire,  but  the  depravity  of  tilings  inanimate  took 
the  word  out  of  his  mouth.  There  was  a  tearing 
crash  to  the  rear  ;  a  shock  as  if  a  huge  projectile 
had  overtaken  them ;  and  the  flying  locomotive  came 
to  earth  Hke  an  eagle  with  a  mangled  wing.  It  was 
a  broken  axle  under  the  tender ;  a  tested  steel  shaft 
which  had  outlived  the  pounding  race  across  the 
mountains  only  to  fall  apart  in  the  la«t  level  mile  of 
the  home  stretch.  Jeffard  clambered  down  with  the 
enginemen,  and  saw  defeat,  crushing  and  definite, 
in  the  wreck  under  the  tender.  But  the  big  en- 
gineer was  a  man  for  a  crisis.  One  glance  at  the 
wreck  sufficed,  and  the  fireman  got  his  orders  in 
shot-like  sentences. 

"  Up  with  you,  Tom,  and  give  her  the  water,  — 
both  injectors  !  Drop  me  the  sledge,  and  get  the 
pinch-bar  under  the  head  o'  that  couplin'-pin  when 
I  drive  it  up.  Give  her  a  scoop  'r  two  o'  coal  — 
'nough  to  rmi  in  with.  By  cripes !  we  '11  beat  'em 
yet!" 

The  minced  oath  came  from  beneath  the  engine, 
and  was  punctuated  by  mighty  upward  blows  of  the 
sledge  hammer  on  the  coupling-pin,  whose  head  was 
rising  by  half -inch  unpulses  from  its  seat  in  the  foot- 
plate. Jeffard  saw  and  understood.  The  engineer 
meant  to  cut  loose  from  the  wreck  and  finish  the 
run  without  the  tender. 

"  Use  me  if  you  can,"  he  offered.  "  What  shall 
I  do?" 

"  Climb  up  there  and  help  Tom  with  that  bar. 
If  we  can  pull  this  pin  we  're  in  it  yet." 


194  THE  HELPERS 

Jeffard  laid  hold  with  the  fireman,  and  together 
they  pried  at  the  reluctant  pin.  It  yielded  at  length, 
but  when  the  engineer  hiul  disconnected  the  water 
and  au-  hose  and  mounted  to  his  place  in  the  cab, 
the  roar  of  the  oncoming  passenger  train  was  ajar  in 
the  air. 

"  You  stay  with  the  wi'eck,  Tom,  and  flag  it !  " 
was  the  final  command  ;  and  then  to  Jeffard,  as  the 
engine  shot  away  from  its  disabled  member  :  "  How 
much  time  have  you  got  to  have  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  It  depends  upon  how  much 
those  fellows  have  found  out,  and  how  di-unk  my 
partner  is.  At  the  worst,  a  minute  or  two  will 
serve." 

It  was  still  to  be  had,  but  in  the  very  yard  a 
thrown  switch  intervened,  and  the  small  margin 
vanished.  The  passenger  train  was  in,  and  Jeffard 
saw  defeat  agam ;  but  he  dropped  from  the  locomo- 
tive and  ran  up  the  yard,  forgetting  in  the  heat  of 
it  that  he  had  elided  two  meals  in  the  twenty-four 
hours.  The  final  dash  brought  its  reward.  He 
took  the  first  vehicle  that  offered  and  reached  the 
principal  hotel  in  time  to  see  Garvin  and  his  keepers 
descend  from  a  carriage  at  the  entrance. 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  in  one  moment.  Those  three  fellows 
who  came  in  just  now  ?  They  've  gone  up  to  their 
room.     Be  with  us  over  night  ?  " 

Thus  the  hotel  clerk  in  answer  to  Jeffard's  gasp- 
ing inquiry.  To  whom  the  proletary,  fighting  de- 
sperately for  some  semblance  of  equanimity  :  — 

"I  —  I  '11   be   here    indefinitely ;  no,  I  have   no 


THE  HELPERS  195 

baggage ;  I  '11  pay  in  advance.  Can  you  give  me 
the  room  next  to  these  men  ?  The  crazy  one  is  my 
partner,  and  I  '11  be  responsible  for  him." 

The  clerk  hesitated,  but  Jeffard  won  his  cause 
without  Icnowing  it  by  the  necessary  parade  of  bank- 
notes in  the  pecuniary  affair. 

"  Certainly,  sir  ;  the  boy  will  show  you  up.  You 
won't  trouble  him  ?  All  right ;  Number  Nineteen  — 
second  floor,  third  door  to  the  right.  Dinner  is 
served,  when  you  're  ready." 

If  Jeffard  had  forgotten  his  directions  the  up- 
roar in  Number  Eighteen  would  have  guided  him. 
Garvin's  voice,  uplifted  in  alternate  malediction  and 
maudlin  bathos,  jarred  upon  the  air  of  the  corridor. 
Jeffard  paused.  The  long  chase  was  ended  and 
only  a  pine  door  intervened  between  pursuer  and 
pursued.  He  laid  a  hand  on  the  doorknob.  His 
breath  came  hard,  and  the  veins  in  his  forehead 
were  like  knotted  whipcords.  While  he  paused 
some  broken  babblings  from  within  wrought  a  swift 
change  in  him.  The  knotted  veins  relaxed  and  he 
laughed,  not  mirthfully  but  with  a  cynical  upcurve 
of  the  lip.  His  hand  slipped  from  the  doorknob, 
and  he  stole  away,  cat-like,  to  let  himself  noiselessly 
into  the  adjoining  room. 

There  was  a  door  of  communication  between  the 
two  rooms,  bolted  on  Jeffard's  side,  and  with  the 
knob  removed.  He  went  on  his  knees  to  the  square 
hole  through  the  lock,  but  the  angle  of  vision  in- 
cluded no  more  than  a  blank  patch  of  the  opposite 
wall.     Then  he  laid  his  ear  to  the  aperture.     Out 


190  THE   HELPERS 

of  the  jangling  discord  beyond  the  door  came  frag- 
mentary hicidities  pieecaLle  together  into  a  strand 
of  sequence.  Garvin  had  told  all  he  knew,  or  all 
he  could  remember,  and .  the  robbery  paused  at  the 
trivial  detail  of  the  most  feasible  route  over  the 
mountains  from  Aspen.  But  to  make  sure,  and 
possibly  to  provide  against  the  contingency  of  having 
to  eliminate  Garvin,  some  rude  map  was  needed ; 
and  this  one  of  the  plunderers  was  evidently  try- 
ing to  draw  under  instructions  from  the  witling. 
At  the  mention  of  a  map,  Jeffard  rummaged  his 
pockets  without  taking  his  ear  from  the  door.  From 
one  of  them  he  drew  a  crumpled  bit  of  paper, 
thumbed  and  crease-broken.  It  Avas  Garvin's  map 
of  the  claim  and  the  trail,  passed  over  for  inspection 
in  the  hollow  of  a  certain  lambent  evening  months 
before  and  never  returned. 

Who  shall  say  what  was  behind  the  inscrutable 
darkling  of  the  eyes  of  him  when  he  returned  the 
paper  to  his  pocket  and  bent  to  listen  with  four 
senses  lending  their  acuteness  to  the  fifth  ?  Was  it 
a  softening  memory  of  the  loving-kindnesses  of  one 
James  Garvin  to  a  man  soul-sick  and  body-wasted, 
snatched  as  a  charred  brand  out  of  a  fire  of  his  own 
kindling  ?  Or  was  it  the  stirring  of  a  ruthless  devil 
of  self  ;  a  devil  never  more  than  dormant  in  any 
heart  insurgent ;  a  fell  demon  of  the  pit  whose 
arousmg  waits  only  upon  opportunity,  whose  power 
is  to  transform  pity  into  remorseless  ingratitude  and 
ruth  into  relentless  greed?  There  was  room  for 
the  alternative. 


THE   HELPERS  197 

"  Here ;  take  another  nip  o'  this  and  pull  your- 
self together,"  —  it  was  the  voice  of  the  hawk-faced 
one.  "  If  you  was  n't  such  a  howlin'  idiot  you  'd  see 
that  we  're  the  only  friends  you  've  got.  I  keep 
a-tellin'  you  that  that  slick  pardner  o'  yours  was  on 
that  wild  ingine,  and  if  you  don't  sink  a  shaft  on 
your  wits  he  's  a-goin'  to  do  you  up  cold !  " 

The  appeal  brought  blood  as  a  blow.  The  crash 
of  an  overturned  chair  was  followed  by  an  explosion 
of  cursings,  the  outcries  of  a  soul  in  torment.  And 
when  the  madman  choked  in  the  fullness  of  it,  a 
voice  said :  "  Pick  up  that  chair,  Pete,  and  pull  him 
down.  He  '11  be  seein'  things  in  a  minute,  and 
that  '11  settle  the  whole  shootin'-match."  There  was  a 
struggle  short  but  violent,  the  jar  of  a  forcible  down- 
setting,  and  a  sound  as  of  one  flinging  his  arms  abroad 
upon  the  table.  After  which  the  tormented  one  be- 
came brokenly  articulate.  What  he  said  is  unre- 
cordable.  With  maudlin  oath  and  thick-tongued 
ravings  he  rehearsed  his  fancied  wrongs  and  breathed 
forth  promises  of  vengeance,  calling  down  the  wi-ath 
of  the  spheres  upon  one  Henry  Jeffard  and  his  pos- 
terity to  the  third  and  fourth  generation. 

"  That 's  all  right ;  I  'd  kill  him  on  sight,  if  I 
was  you.  But  just  now  you  're  killin'  time,  instid. 
First  you  know,  he'll  be  on  his  way  acrost  the 
range,  and  then  where  '11  you  be  ?  You  don't  even 
know  that  he  did  n't  locate  that  claim  before  you 
came  out.  Git  down  to  business  and  tell  ixs  where 
that  valley  is,  if  you  ever  knowed.  You  said  it  was 
on  a  creek  "  — 


198  THE   HELPERS 

Jeffard  rose  and  went  softly  across  the  room  to 
sit  on  the  edge  of  the  bed.  The  unfathomable  light 
was  still  in  his  eyes,  and  his  thought  wrought  itself 
into  words. 

"  It 's  done  ;  they  '11  wring  it  out  of  him,  and  then 
fling  him  aside  like  so  much  offal.  I  wonder  if  it  is 
worth  while  to  try  to  save  it  —  for  hun.  What  good 
would  it  do  him  ?  —  or,  rather,  what  evil  thing  is 
there  that  it  would  n't  make  possible  for  him  ?  What 
devil  of  curiosity  led  me  to  open  this  Pandora-box 
of  responsibility?  For  I  am  responsible,  fu'st  for 
the  finding,  and  now  for  the  keeping,  and  hereafter 
for  what  shall  come  of  it.  That  is,  if  I  save  it  — 
for  him."  He  got  upon  his  feet  and  tiptoed  back 
to  the  door  of  conununication,  listening  once  more. 
The  clamor  had  quieted  down,  and  the  scratching  of 
a  pen  gnawed  the  silence.  Then  came  the  voice  of 
the  hawk-faced  one. 

"  There  she  is ;  you  sign  your  name  right  there 
and  it  '11  be  all  right.  It 's  the  only  way  ;  you  're 
too  drunk  to  pull  strings  with  that  pardner  o'  yours, 
and  we  're  goin'  to  stand  by  you,  see  ?  All  we  want 
is  the  authority." 

Jeffard  started  back  and  made  as  if  he  would 
fling  himself  against  the  locked  door.  Then  he 
thought  better  of  it. 

"  That  simplifies  it,"  he  mused,  pacing  up  and 
down  with  noiseless  steps.  "  He  has  signed  away 
whatever  right  he  had,  and  now  it 's  my  turn.  If  I 
pay  the  price  I  can  checkmate  them.  But  can  I 
pay  the   price  ?     Surely,  if   any  man   can ;  I,  who 


THE   HELPERS  199 

have  deliberately  turned  my  back  upon  the  world's 
approval  for  a  much  less  thing.  And  in  the  end 
the  money  will  atone." 

A  stir  in  the  adjoining  room  admonished  him  that 
the  time  for  action  had  come.  He  wheeled  quickly 
and  let  himself  into  the  corridor.  A  key  was  rat- 
tling in  the  lock  of  Number  Eighteen  as  he  passed, 
but  he  foimd  the  stair  before  the  bolt  was  shot.  In 
the  lobby  he  stopped  to  ask  a  hurried  question  of  a 
man  who  was  opening  his  mail  at  the  public  writing- 
table.  The  question  was  answered  curtly,  but  the 
man  left  his  letters  and  went  to  the  door  to  point 
the  reply. 

"  I  see  it ;  thank  you,"  said  Jeffard ;  and  went 
his  way  rapidly,  with  now  and  then  a  glance  behind 
him  as  if  to  make  sure  that  he  was  not  followed. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  came  back,  walking  slowly, 
with  his  head  down  and  his  hands  in  the  pockets  of 
the  brown  duck  miner's  coat.  There  was  a  knot  of 
loungers  in  front  of  the  hotel,  gathered  about  the 
door  and  peering  in  ;  a  group  of  curious  ones,  which 
grew  by  accretions  from  the  by-passers.  A  disturb- 
ance of  some  sort  was  afoot  in  the  lobby  —  two 
persuasive  ones  struggling  peaceably  with  a  drunken 
man,  while  the  bystanders  looked  on  with  smiles 
pitying  or  cynical,  each  after  his  kind. 

eleffard  pushed  into  the  circle,  and  those  who  re- 
marked hmi  said  that  he  seemed  to  see  nothino;  but 
the  strugghng  trio.  Some  of  the  onlookers  were 
near  enough  to  hear  what  he  said  to  the  two  who 
were  not  drunk. 


200  THE   HELPERS 

"  The  game  is  closed,  gentlemen,  and  you  are  out 
of  it.  AVhen  you  get  on  the  ground  you  will  find 
the  claim  located  —  in  my  name." 

Two  right  hands  made  simultaneous  backward 
dips,  and  two  potential  murderers  apparently  realized 
the  folly  of  it  at  the  same  instant.  But  the  drunken 
one  spun  around  with  his  face  ablaze,  a  fiercer  mad- 
ness than  that  of  drink  burning  in  his  bloodshot 
eyes. 

"  You  ?  You  played  the  sneak  an'  located  hit 
behind  my  back  ?  In  your  name,  d'  ye  say  ?  —  your 
name  ?     Well,  by  God,  you  hain't  got  a  name  !  " 

A  jiistol  cracked  with  the  oath,  and  Jeffard  put 
his  hands  to  his  head  and  pitched  forward.  The 
crowd  fell  back  aghast,  to  surge  inward  again  with 
a  rush  when  the  reaction  came.  Then  a  shout  was 
raised  at  the  door,  and  the  haggard  manslayer,  cured 
now  of  all  madness  save  that  of  fear,  burst  through 
the  inpressing  throng  and  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Even  in  a  Colorado  mining-  town  a  shooting  affray 
at  midday  in  the  lobby  of  the  principal  hotel  creates 
more  or  less  of  a  sensation,  and  it  was  fully  fifteen 
minutes  before  the  buzz  of  public  comment  subsided 
sufficiently  to  suffer  Mr.  Mark  Denby  to  go  back  to 
his  letters  and  telegrams.  He  had  made  one  in  the 
circle  of  onlookers ;  had  seen  and  heard,  and,  now 
that  the  wounded  man  had  been  carried  to  his  room 
and  cared  for,  and  the  hunt  was  up  and  afield  for 
the  would-be  murderer,  was  willing  to  forget.  But 
a  traveling  salesman  at  the  opposite  blottmg-pad 
must  needs  keep  the  pool  astir. 

"  Say,  was  n't  that  the  most  cold-blooded  thing 
you  ever  saw  ?  'Y  gad !  I  've  heard  that  these 
Western  towns  were  fearfully  tough,  but  I  had  no 
idea  a  man  would  n't  be  safe  to  sit  down  and  write 
his  house  in  the  lobby  of  a  decent  hotel.  'Pon  my 
word,  I  actually  heard  the  '  zip  '  of  that  bullet !  " 

Denby  looked  across  at  the  hinderer  of  oblivion, 
and  remembered  that  the  salesman  had  been  well  to 
the  rear  of  the  battery  in  action.  Wherefore  he 
said,  with  a  touch  of  the  gravest  irony :  "  You  '11 
get  used  to  it,  after  a  bit.  Suppose  you  take  a  spin 
around  the  block  in  the  open  air ;  that  will  doubtless 
steady  your  nerves  so  you  can  write  the  house  with- 
out a  quiver." 


202  THE   HELPERS 

"  Think  it  would  ?  I  believe  I  '11  try  it ;  I  caii't 
hold  a  i^en  still  to  save  my  life.  But  say,  I  might 
haj^pen  to  run  up  against  that  fellow,  and  he  might 
recognize  me  and  think  I  was  after  him." 

"  In  which  case  he  would  in  all  probability  draw 
and  quarter  you  and  take  your  scalp  for  a  memento. 
On  second  thought,  I  don't  know  but  you  're  safer 
where  you  are." 

The  mere  suggestion  was  perspiratory,  and  the 
traveling  man  mopped  his  face.  But  there  are  occa- 
sions when  one  must  talk  or  burst,  and  presently  he 
began  again. 

"  Say,  I  suppose  they  '11  lynch  that  fellow  if  they 
catch  him,  won't  they  ?  " 

The  badgered  one  came  to  attention  with'  a  fuie- 
lined  frown  of  annoyance  radiating  fan-like  above 
his  eyes.  He  was  of  the  stuff  of  which  man-masters 
are  made  ;  a  well-knit  figure  of  a  man,  rather  under 
than  over  the  average  of  height  and  breadtli,  but  so 
fairly  proportioned  as  to  give  the  impression  of  im- 
measured  strength  in  reserve,  —  the  strength  of  steel 
under  silk.  His  face  was  bronzed  with  the  sun-stain 
of  the  altitudes,  but  it  was  as  smooth  as  a  child's, 
and  beardless,  with  thin  lips  and  masterful  eyes  of 
the  sort  that  can  look  immoved  upon  things  un- 
namable. 

"  Lynch  him  ?  Oh,  no  ;  you  do  us  an  injustice," 
he  said,  and  the  tone  was  quite  as  level  as  the  eye- 
volley.  "  We  don't  lynch  people  out  here  for  shoot- 
ing, —  only  for  talking  too  much." 

Whereat  one  may  picture  unacclimated  loquacity 


THE   HELPERS  203 

gasping  and  silenced,  with  the  owner  o£  the  "  Chinca- 
pin  "  and  other  listed  properties  going  on  to  read 
his  letters  and  telegrams  in  peace.  The  process 
furthered  itseK  in  the  sequence  of  well  -  ordered 
disj)atch  until  a  message,  damp  from  the  cojDying- 
press  and  dated  at  LeadviUe,  came  to  the  surface. 
It  covered  two  of  the  yellow  sheets  in  the  spacious 
handwriting  of  the  receiving  operator,  and  Denby 
read  it  twice,  and  yet  once  again,  before  laying  it 
aside.  Whatever  it  was,  it  was  not  suffered  to  in- 
terrupt the  orderly  sequence  of  things ;  and  Denby 
had  read  the  last  of  the  letters  before  he  held  up  a 
summoning  finger  for  a  bell-boy. 

"  Go  and  ask  the  clerk  the  name  of  the  man  who 
was  shot,  will  you?  " 

The  information  came  in  two  words,  and  the 
querist  gathered  uj)  his  papers  and  sent  the  boy  for 
his  room  key.  At  the  stairhead  he  met  the  surgeon 
and  stopped  him  to  ask  about  the  wounded  man. 

"  How  are  you,  Doctor  ?  What  is  the  verdict  ? 
Is  there  a  fighting  chance  for  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  much  more  than  that.  It  is  n't  as 
bad  as  it  might  have  been  ;  the  skull  is  n't  fractured. 
But  it  was  enough  to  knock  him  out  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. He  had  skipped  two  or  three  meals, 
he  tells  me,  and  was  under  a  pretty  tense  strain  of 
excitement." 

"  Then  he  is  conscious  ?  " 

The  physician  laughed.  "  Very  much  so.  He  is 
sitting  up  to  take  my  prescription,  —  which  was  a 
square  meal.     Whatever  the  strain  was,  it  is  n't  off 


204  THE   HELPERS 

yet.  He  insists  that  he  must  mount  and  ride  this 
afternoon  if  he  has  to  be  lashed  in  the  saddle  ;  has 
already  ordered  a  horse,  in  fact.     He  is  plucky." 

"  Then  he  is  able  to  talk  business,  I  suppose." 

"  Able,  yes ;  but  if  you  can  get  anything  out  of 
him,  you  '11  do  better  than  I  could.  He  won't  talk, 
—  won't  even  tell  what  the  row  was  about." 

"  Won't  he  ?  "  The  man  of  affairs  crossed  the 
corridor  and  tapped  on  the  door  of  Number  Nine- 
teen. There  was  no  response,  and  he  turned  the 
knob  and  entered.  The  shades  were  drawn  and 
there  was  a  cleanly  odor  of  aseptics  in  the  air  of  the 
darkened  room.  The  wounded  man  was  propped 
among  pillows  on  the  bed,  with  a  well-furnished  tea- 
tray  on  his  knees.  He  gave  prompt  evidence  of  his 
ability  to  talk. 

"  Back  again,  are  you  ?  I  told  you  I  had  nothing 
to  say  for  publication,  and  I  meant  it."  This  wratli- 
fully ;  then  he  discovered  his  mistake,  but  the  tone 
of  the  careless  apology  was  scarcely  more  concilia- 
tory. "  Oh  —  excuse  me.  I  thought  it  was  the 
reporter." 

Bartrow's  correspondent  found  a  chair  and  intro- 
duced himself  with  charitable  directness.  "  My 
name  Is  Denby.  I  am  here  because  Mr.  Richard 
Bartrow  wires  me  to  look  you  up." 

Jeffard  delayed  the  knife  and  fork  play  long 
enough  to  say :  "  Denby  ?  —  oh,  yes  ;  I  remember. 
Thank  you,"  and  there  the  interview  bade  fair  to 
die  of  inanition.  Jeffard  went  on  with  his  dinner 
as  one  who  eats  to  live ;  and  Denby  tilted  his  chair 


THE   HELPERS  205 

gently  and  studied  his  man  as  well  as  he  might  in 
the  twilight  of  the  drawn  shades.  After  a  time,  he 
said  :  — 

"  Bartrow  bespeaks  my  help  for  you.  He  says 
your  affair  may  need  expediting  :  does  it?" 

Jeffard's  rejoinder  was  almost  antagonistic.  "  How 
much  do  you  know  of  the  affair?  " 

"  What  the  whole  town  knows  by  this  time  — 
added  to  what  little  Bartrow  tells  me  in  his  wire. 
You  or  your  partner  have  stumbled  upon  an  aban- 
doned claim  which  promises  to  be  a  bonanza.  One 
of  you  —  public  rumor  is  a  little  uncertain  as  to 
which  one  —  tried  to  euchre  the  other  ;  and  it  seems 
that  you  have  won  ii»  the  race  to  the  Recorder's 
office,  and  have  come  out  of  it  alive.  Is  that  the 
summary  ?  " 

He  called  it  public  rumor,  but  it  was  rather  a 
shrcAvd  guess.  Jeffard  did  not  hasten  to  confirm  it. 
On  the  contrary,  his  reply  was  evasive. 

"  You  may  call  it  an  hypothesis  —  a  working 
hyj)othesis,  if  you  choose.      What  then  ?  " 

The  promoter  was  not  of  those  who  swerve  from 
conclusions.  "  It  follows  that  you  are  a  stout  fighter, 
and  a  man  to  be  helped,  or  a  very  great  rascal,"  he 
said  cooUy. 

Again  the  knife  and  fork  paused,  and  the 
wounded  man's  gaze  was  at  least  as  steady  as  that  of 
his  conditional  accuser.  "  It  may  simplify  matters, 
Mr.  Denby,  if  I  say  that  I  expect  nothing  from 
public  rumor." 

The  mine-owner  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  an  un- 


206  THE   HELPERS 

willing  arbiter  who  would  fain  wash  his  hands  of  the 
ethical  entanglement  if  he  coidd. 

"  It 's  your  own  affair,  of  course,  —  the  pubHc 
opinion  part  of  it.  But  it  may  prove  to  be  worth 
your  whde  not  to  ignore  the  suffrages  of  those  who 
make  and  unmake  reputations." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  you  will  need  capital,  —  honest  capital, 
—  and"  — 

He  left  the  sentence  in  the  air,  and  Jeffard 
brought  it  down  with  a  cynical  stonecast. 

"  And,  under  the  circumstances,  an  honest  capital- 
ist might  hesitate,  you  would  say.  Possibly  ;  but 
capital,  as  I  know  it,  is  not  so  discriminating  when 
the  legal  requirements  are  satisfied.  There  will  be 
no  question  of  ownersliip  involved  in  the  development 
of  the  '  Midas.'  "  * 

"  Legal  ownership,  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Legal  or  otherwise.  When  the  time  for  invest- 
ment comes,  I  shall  be  abundantly  able  to  assure  the 
capitalist." 

"  To  guarantee  the  investment :  doubtless.  But 
capital  is  not  always  as  unscrupulous  as  you  seem  to 
think." 

"  No  ?  "  —  the  tilt  of  the  negative  was  almost 
aggressive.  "  There  are  borrowers  and  borrowers, 
Mr.  Denby.  It 's  the  man  without  collateral  who 
is  constrained  to  make  a  confidant  of  his  banker." 

The  blue-gray  eyes  of  the  master  of  men  looked 
their  levelest,  and  the  clean  -  shaven  face  was 
shrewdly  inscrutable.     "  Pardon    me,  Mr.    Jeffard, 


THE   HELPERS  207 

but  there  are  men  who  couki  n't  borrow  with  the 
Orizaba  behind  them." 

Jeffarcl  parried  the  eye-thrust,  and  brushed  the 
generalities  aside  in  a  sentence. 

"  All  of  which  is  beside  the  mark,  and  I  have 
neither  the  strength  nor  the  inclination  to  flail  it 
out  with  you.  As  you  say,  I  shall  need  capital  — 
yours  or  another's.  State  the  case  —  yours,  or  mine, 
—  in  so  many  words,  if  you  please." 

"  Briefly,  then  :  the  equity  in  this  affair  lies  be- 
tween you  and  the  man  who  tried  to  kill  you.  I 
mean  by  this  that  the  bonanza  is  either  yours  or  his. 
If  it  were  a  partnersliip  discovery  there  would  have 
been  no  chance  for  one  of  you  to  overreach  the 
other.  You  '11  hardly  deny  that  there  was  a  sharp 
fight  for  possession  :  you  both  advertised  that  fact 
pretty  liberally." 

Jeffard  was  listening  with  indifference,  real  or 
feigned,  and  he  neither  denied  nor  affirmed.  "  Go 
on." 

"  From  the  point  of  view  of  an  imprejudiced 
observer  the  evidence  is  against  your  partner.  He 
comes  here  drmik  and  abusive,  in  company  with  two 
men  whose  faces  would  condemn  them  anywhere,  and 
squanders  his  lead  in  the  race  in  a  supplementary 
carouse.  And  a  little  later,  when  he  fhids  that  you 
have  outclassed  him,  he  shoots  you  down  like  a  dog 
in  a  fit  of  drimken  fury.  To  an  impartial  onlooker 
the  inference  is  fairly  obvious." 

"And  that  is?"  — 

"  That  your  partner  is  the   scoundrel ;    that  the 


208  THE  HELPERS 

discovery  is  yours,  and  that  he  and  his  accomplices 
were  trying  to  rob  you.  I  don't  mind  sa}ang  that 
this  is  my  own  inference,  but  I  shall  be  glad  to  have 
it  confirmed." 

Jeffard  looked  up  quickly.  "  Then  Bartrow 
has  n't  told  you  "  — 

"  Bartrow's  message  was  merely  introductory ; 
two  pages  of  eulogj^,  in  fact,  as  any  friendly  office 
of  Dick's  is  bound  to  be.  He  doesn't  go  into 
details." 

Jeffard  put  the  tea-tray  aside  and  with  it  the  air 
of  abstraction,  and  in  a  better  light  his  interlocutor 
would  not  have  failed  to  remark  the  swift  change 
from  dubiety  to  assurance. 

"  Will  you  bear  with  me,  Mr.  Denb}^  if  I  say 
that  your  methods  are  a  little  indirect  ?  You  say 
that  the  evidence  is  against  James  Garvin,  and  yet 
you  give  me  to  understand  that  it  will  be  well  if  I 
can  clear  myself." 

"  Exactly ;  a  word  of  assurance  is  sometimes 
worth  many  deductions." 

"  But  if,  for  reasons  of  my  own,  I  refuse  to  say 
the  word  ?  " 

The  promoter's  shrug  was  barely  perceptible. 
"  I  don't  see  why  you  should  refuse." 

Jeffard  went  silent  at  that,  lying  back  with  closed 
eyes  and  no  more  than  a  twitching  of  the  lips  to  show 
that  he  was  not  asleep.  After  what  seemed  an  in- 
terminable interval  to  the  mine-owner,  he  said  :  — 

"  I  do  refuse,  for  the  present.  A  few  days  later, 
when  I  have  done  what  I  have  to  do,  there  will  be 


THE   HELPERS  209 

time  enough  to  discuss  ways  and  means  —  and 
ethics,  if  you  still  feel  inclined  that  way.  May  I 
trouble  you  to  run  that  window-shade  up  ? "  He 
was  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  and  groping 
beneath  it  for  his  shoes. 

The  promoter  admitted  the  light  and  ventured  a 
question. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Get  on  the  ground  with  the  least  possible 
delay." 

The  shoes  were  found,  but  when  the  wounded  one 
bent  to  lace  them  the  room  spmi  around  and  he 
would  have  fallen  if  Denby  had  not  caught  him. 

"  You  're  not  fit,"  said  the  master  of  men,  not  un- 
sympathetically.  "  You  could  n't  sit  a  horse  if  your 
life  depended  upon  it." 

"  I  must ;  therefore  I  can  and  will,"  Jeffard  as- 
serted, with  fine  determination.  "  Be  good  enough 
to  ask  the  bell-boy  to  come  in  and  lace  my  shoes." 

The  man  with  a  mission  to  compel  other  men 
smiled.  His  fetish  was  indomitable  resolution,  for 
himself  first,  and  afterward  for  those  who  deserved ; 
and  here  was  a  man  who,  whatever  his  lacks  and 
havings  in  the  ethical  field,  was  at  least  courageous. 
Having  admitted  so  much,  the  promoter  went  down 
on  one  knee  to  lace  the  courageous  one's  shoes,  dis- 
suading him,  meanwhile. 

"  You  can't  go  to-day  ;  the  wound-fever  will  come 
on  presently,  and  you  '11  be  a  sick  man.  Let  it  rest 
a  while.  Having  put  himself  on  the  criminal  side 
of  the  fence  by  trying  to  kill  you,  your  partner  will 


210  THE   HELPERS 

hardly  dare  to  jump  the  claim  in  person  ;  he  will 
have  to  find  a  proxy,  and  that  will  ask  for  time,  — 
more  time  than  the  sheriff-dodging  will  permit." 

"  His  proxies  are  here,  and  they  will  act  without 
instructions  from  him,"  said  Jeffard,  with  his  hands 
to  his  head  and  his  teeth  set  to  keep  the  words  from 
shaping  themselves  into  a  gToan. 

"  You  mean  the  two  who  were  with  him  ?  " 

"  Yes.  So  far  as  the  present  fight  is  concerned, 
the  three  are  one ;  and  two  of  them  are  still  free  to 
act." 

"So?  —  that 's  different."  Denby  finished  tying 
the  second  shoe  and  rose  to  begin  measuring  a  sen- 
tinel's beat  between  the  window  and  the  door,  pacing 
evenly  with  his  brows  knitted  and  liis  hands  clasped 
behind  him.      "  You  know  what  to  expect,  then  ?  " 

"  I  know  that  I  have  been  twice  shot  at  within  the 
past  two  hours,  and  that  the  moments  are  golden." 

"  But  you  are  in  no  condition  to  go  in  and  hold  it 
alone !  You  '11  have  to  meet  force  with  force.  You 
ought  to  have  at  least  three  or  four  good  men  with 
you." 

"  What.  I  have  to  do  presupposes  a  clear  field," 
said  Jeffard  guardedly.  "  If  it  should  come  to 
blows,  the  discussion  of  —  of  ethics  will  be  in- 
definitely postponed,  I  'm  afraid." 

"  Humph !  I  suppose  your  reasons  are  as  strong 
as  your  obstinacy.     How  far  is  it  to  your  claim  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  the  exact  distance  ;  about  twenty 
miles,  I  believe.  But  there  is  a  mountain  range 
intervening." 


THE   HELPERS  211 

"  You  can't  ride  it  in  your  present  condition  ;  it 's 
a  sheer  physical  impossibility." 

"  I  shall  ride  it." 

"  What  is  the  use  of  being  an  ass  ?  "  demanded 
the  master  of  men,  losing  patience  for  once  in  a  way. 
"  Don't  you  see  you  can't  stand  alone  ?  " 

Jeffard  struggled  to  his  feet  and  wavered  across 
the  room  to  a  chair.  Denby  laughed,  —  a  quiet 
little  chuckle  of  appreciation. 

"  I  did  n't  mean  literally ;  I  meant  in  the  business 
affair.  "  You  'U  have  to  have  help  from  the  start. 
That  means  that  you  will  have  to  trust  some  one. 
From  what  you  say  it  is  evident  that  there  will  be 
an  immediate  attempt  made  to  jump  the  claim ;  an 
attempt  which  will  be  afoot  and  on  the  ground  long 
before  you  can  get  there.  Let  us  be  reasonable  and 
take  hold  of  the  live  fact's.  I  have  a  man  here  who 
is  both  capable  and  trustworthy.  Let  me  send  him 
in  with  a  sufficient  force  to  stand  off  the  jumpers 
mitil  you  are  able  to  hold  your  own." 

Jeffard  shook  his  head.  "  I  can't  do  it,  unreason- 
able as  it  may  seem.  I  must  go  first  and  alone. 
That  is  another  mystery,  you  wiU  say,  but  I  can't 
help  it.  If  I  win  through  it  alive  I  shall  be  here 
again  in  a  day  or  two,  ready  to  talk  business.  More 
than  that  I  can't  say  now." 

Denby's  thin  lips  came  together  in  a  straight  line, 
with  a  click  of  the  white  teeth  behind  them.  "  As 
you  please.  I  am  not  going  about  to  prove  to  you 
that  you  would  lose  nothing  by  trusting  me  from  the 
start.     Can  I  do  anytliing  toward  helping  you  off  ?  " 


212  THE   HELPERS 

"  Yes  ;  you  can  i^ive  me  your  shoulder  clown  the 
stair  and  a  lift  into  the  saddle." 

The  little  journey  to  the  ground  floor  was  made 
in  silence.  When  they  were  passing  the  desk  the 
clerk  said :  "  Your  horse  is  at  the  door,  Mr.  Jef- 
fard.  I  was  just  about  to  send  up  word.  Are  you 
feeling  better  ?  " 

"  I  am  all  right."  He  leaned  heavily  on  the 
counter  and  paid  liis  bill.  "  Did  the  liveryman 
leave  any  message  ?  " 

"  No,  only  to  say  that  he  has  stocked  the  saddle- 
bags as  you  directed." 

The  personally  conducted  journey  went  on  to  the 
sidewalk,  and  Denby  heaved  the  wounded  one  into 
the  saddle,  steadying  him  therein  till  the  vertigo 
loosed  its  hold. 

"  Anything  else  you  can  delegate  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you  ;  nothing  that  I  think  of." 

"  You  are  still  determined  to  go  ?  " 

"  Quite  determined." 

"  Well,  you  are  a  stubborn  madman,  and  I  rather 
like  you  for  it ;  that 's  all  I  have  to  say.  Good  luck 
to  you." 

Jeffard  gathered  the  reins  and  sat  reflective  what 
time  the  broncho  sniffed  the  cool  breeze  pouring 
down  from  the  higher  slopes  of  the  western  range. 
When  the  horse  would  have  set  out,  Jeffard  re- 
strained him  yet  another  moment. 

"  You  intimated  a  few  minutes  ago  that  I  was 
afraid  to  trust  you,  Mr.  Denby,"  he  said,  picking 
and  choosing  among  the  words  as  one  who  has  a 


THE   HELPERS  213 

difficult  course  to  steer.  "  I  do  trust  you  as  far  as 
I  cau  trust  any  one  at  the  present  crisis,  and  1  '11 
prove  it."  He  drew  a  crumpled  bit  of  paper  from 
his  pocket,  and  smoothed  it  upon  the  pommel  of  the 
saddle.  "  Here  is  a  rough  map  of  the  claim  and 
the  trails  by  which  it  may  be  reached.  If  I  'm  not 
back  in  Aspen  m  three  days,  fit  out  your  expedition 
and  go  in  prepared  to  take  and  hold  the  property. 
The  men  you  will  find  in  possession  will  be  robbers, 
—  and  murderers, —  and  you  may  have  to  fight  for 
it ;  but  that  won't  matter.  In  the  right-hand  tun- 
nel wall,  a  few  feet  from  the  entrance,  you  will  see 
a  crevice  where  the  dynamite  was  kept.  In  the 
bottom  of  that  crevice  you  '11  find  my  last  will  and 
testament,  and  I  'm  going  to  believe  that  you  will 
carry  out  its  provisions  to  the  letter." 

The  promoter's  smile  was  of  grinmess,  with  quar- 
terings  of  approval. 

"  Which  is  to  say  that  you  'U  be  safely  dead  and 
buried.  Barring  your  idiotic  stubbornness,  you  are 
a  man  after  my  own  heart,  Mr.  Jeffard,  and  I  'U 
willingly  be  your  executor.     Are  you  armed?" 

"  No ;  I  told  you  it  would  depend  upon  speed.  I 
have  no  weapons." 

"  What !  And  you  are  going  on  a  forlorn  hope 
with  an  even  chance  of  having  to  fight  for  your  hf e  ? 
Wait  a  minute." 

He  ran  back  into  the  hotel,  coming  out  again 
presently  with  a  repeating  rifle  and  a  well-filled 
cartridge  belt.  "  There  is  such  a  thing  as  cold 
nerve  carried  to  the  vanishing  point  in  foolhardiness, 


214  THE   HELPERS 

Mr.  Jeffard,"  he  said.  "  Put  this  belt  on  while  I 
sling  the  rifle  under  the  saddle-flap.  Can  you  shoot 
straight  ?  " 

"  It  is  extremely  doubtful.  A  little  target  prac- 
tice as  a  boy  "  — 

"  Target  practice  !  —  and  you  may  have  to  stand 
off  a  gang  of  desperadoes  who  can  clip  coins  at  a 
hundred  yards  !  You  'd  better  reconsider  and  give 
me  time  to  organize  a  posse." 

"  No  :  thank  you  —  for  that  and  everything  else. 
Good-by." 

Denby  stood  on  the  curb  and  watched  his  man 
ride  slowly  up  the  street  and  take  the  turn  toward 
the  southern  mountains.  After  which  he  went  back 
to  his  place  at  the  public  writing-table  in  the  lobby, 
picking  up  the  hotel  stenographer  on  the  way.  For  a 
preoccupied  half-hour  he  dictated  steadily,  and  when 
the  last  letter  was  answered  got  up  to  pace  out  the 
transcribing  interval.  In  the  midst  of  it  he  di'ifted 
out  to  the  sidewalk  and  stood  staring  absently  up 
the  street,  as,  an  hour  earlier,  he  had  gazed  after  the 
lessening  figure  of  the  obstinate  one.  But  this  time 
there  were  two  horsemen  in  the  field  of  vision  wend- 
ing their  way  leisurely  to  the  street-end.  Denby, 
thinking  pointedly  of  other  things,  saw  them  and 
saw  them  not  ;  but  when  they,  too,  took  the  turn  to 
the  southward,  he  came  alive  to  the  probabilities  in 
the  heart  of  an  instant. 

"  By  all  that 's  good  !  —  they  're  after  him,  as  sure 
as  fate  !  "  he  muttered ;  and  a  little  later  he  was 
quizzing  the  proprietor  of  a  livery  stable  around  the 
corner. 


THE   HELPERS  215 

"  Do  you  know  those  two  fellows  who  have  just 
left,  Thompson  ?  " 

"  You  bet  I  don't ;  and  I  made  'em  put  up  the 
collateral  for  the  whole  outfit  before  they  got  away." 

"  Where  did  you  say  they  were  going  ?  " 

"  Did  n't  say,  did  I  ?  But  somewheres  up  Jack- 
foot  Gulch  was  what  they  told  me." 

"  H'm ;  that  is  east.  And  just  now  they  are 
riding  in  another  direction.  You  sold  them  the 
horses,  you  say  ?  " 

The  man  grinned.  "  Temp'rarily.  I  '11  take  'em 
back  at  the  same  price,  less  the  tariff,  if  I  ever  see 
'em  again.  I  ain't  takin'  no  chances  on  stray 
strangers  with  any  such  lookin'-glass-bustin'  faces 
as  they  've  got.     Not  much,  Mary  Ann." 

"It  is  well  to  be  careful.  Have  you  seen  my 
man  Donald  since  dinner?  " 

"  Yes  ;  he  was  here  just  now  and  said  he  'd  be 
back  again.     Want  him  ?  " 

Denby  looked  at  his  watch.  "  Yes.  If  he  does  n't 
come  back  within  five  minutes,  send  some  of  the  boys 
out  to  hunt  him  up.  Tell  him  to  outfit  for  himself 
and  me  for  two  days,  and  to  be  at  the  hotel  at 
three,  sharp.  Give  him  the  best  horses  you  can  lay 
your  hands  on." 

"  Always  yours  to  command,  Mr.  Denby.  Any- 
thing else?  " 

"  That 's  all." 

The  promoter  left  the  stable  and  walked  quickly 
to  the  hotel.  At  the  entrance  he  met  an  acquaint- 
ance and  stopped  to  pass  the  time  of  day. 


216  THE   HELPERS 

"  How  are  you,  Koberts  ?  —  By  the  way,  you  are 
just  the  man  I  wanted  to  see  ;  saves  me  a  trip  to 
the  Court  House.  Did  a  fellow  named  Jeffard, 
J-e-f-£-a-r-d,  file  a  notice  and  affidavit  on  a  claim 
called  the  '  Midas'  just  after  dinner  ?  " 

"  No.  He  came  over  to  ask  me  if  there  was  any 
way  in  which  he  could  secure  himself.  It  seems 
that  he  neglected  to  post  a  notice  on  the  claim  be- 
fore coming  out  with  his  samples,  —  why,  he  did  n't 
explain." 

Deuby  nodded  and  went  on,  talking  to  himself. 
"  So  !  —  that 's  Ms  little  mystery,  is  it  ?  The  '  Midas' 
is  n't  located  yet,  and  until  he  gets  that  notice  posted 
and  recorded,  it 's  anybody's  bonanza.  I  hope 
Donald  can  pick  up  the  trail  and  follow  it.  If  he 
can't,  there  '11  be  one  plucky  fellow  less  in  the 
world,  and  two  more  thugs  to  be  hanged,  later  on." 


CHAPTER  XX 

A  TOPOGRAPHICAL  map  of  that  portion  of  the 
Saguache  known  as  the  Elk  Mountain  Range  —  the 
spur  which  forms  the  watershed  between  the  Gunni- 
son and  the  Grand  —  will  include  a  primeval  valley 
gashing  the  range  southeastward  from  Tourtelotte 
on  the  Ashcroft  trail,  and  heading  fifteen  miles 
farther  wildernessward  in  a  wmdswept  pass  across 
the  summit  of  the  watershed.  Its  watercourse,  a 
tumbling  torrent  fed  by  the  melting  snows  in  the 
higher  gulches,  is  a  tributary  of  the  Roaring  Fork ; 
and  a  disused  pack-trail,  which  once  served  a  scat- 
tered pioneer  corps  of  prospectors,  climbs  by  tortuous 
stages  to  the  windswept  pass,  now  swerving  from 
bank  to  bank  of  the  stream,  and  now  heading  a 
lateral  gidch  or  crossing  the  point  of  a  barrier  spur. 

It  is  a  crystalline  afternoon  in  mid-autunui.  In- 
dian summer  on  the  high  plateaus  of  the  continent's 
crest  there  is  none,  but  instead,  a  breathing  space  of 
life-giving  days,  with  the  bouquet  of  fine  old  wine 
in  the  keen-edged  air,  and  of  frosty  nights  when  the 
stars  swing  clear  in  illimitable  space.  Positive 
coloring,  other  than  the  sombre  greens  of  pine  and 
fir,  is  lacking.  The  season  of  bursting  buds  and 
quickening  leaf  tints  is  over,  and  what  little  decidu- 
ous vegetation  the  altitude  permits  is  present  only 


218  THE  HELPERS 

in  t\vig  traceries  and  sun-cured  range  grass.  In  the 
heart  of  the  valley  the  heights  are  heavily  wooded, 
and  the  sombre  greens  wall  out  the  world  to  the  sky- 
line ;  but  fai'ther  on  bald  slopes  and  ridges  stretch 
away  above  the  pines  and  fii-s,  and  the  blue  arch 
of  the  firmament  springs  clear  from  snow-capped 
abutments  of  fallow  dun  and  weathered  gi'ay. 

In  the  upper  levels  of  the  valley  the  disused  trail 
leaves  the  stream  and  begins  to  climb  by  loops  and 
zigzags  to  the  pass.  On  the  reverse  curve  of  one  of 
the  loops  —  the  last  but  one  in  the  upward  path  — 
a  solitary  horseman  sends  his  mount  recklessly  on- 
ward, heedless  alike  of  stones  of  stumbling  and  the 
breath-cutting  steepness  of  the  way.  His  head  is 
bandaged,  and  he  rides  loose  in  the  saddle  like  a 
drunken  man,  swaying  and  reeling,  but  evermore 
urging  the  horse  by  word  and  blow  and  the  drum- 
ming of  unspurred  heels.  His  feet  are  thrust  far 
into  the  stirrups,  and  at  every  fresh  vantage  point 
he  steadies  himself  by  pommel  and  cantle  to  scan 
the  backward  windings  of  the  trail.  A  man  riding 
desperately  for  his  life  and  against  time,  with  a 
handicap  of  physical  unfitness,  one  would  say;  but 
there  would  seem  to  be  fierce  determination  in  the 
unrelenting  onpush,  as  if  wounds  and  weariness 
were  as  yet  no  more  than  spurs  to  goad  and  whips 
to  drive. 

The  reverse  curve  of  the  loop  ends  on  the  crest 
of  the  last  of  the  barrier  spurs,  and  at  the  crown  of 
the  ascent  the  forest  thins  to  right  and  left,  opening 
a  longer  backward  vista.     On  the  bare  summit  the 


THE  HELPERS  219 

rider  turns  once  more  in  his  saddle,  and  the  rear- 
ward glance  becomes  a  steady  eye-sweep.  In  the 
bight  of  the  loop  which  he  has  just  traversed  the 
trail  swings  clear  of  the  gulch  timber,  and  while 
he  gazes  two  dark  objects  advancing  abreast  and 
alternately  rising  and  falling  to  a  distance-softened 
staccato  of  pounding  hoofs  cross  the  open  space  and 
double  the  loop.  The  wounded  one  measures  his 
lead.  For  aU  his  spurrings  the  distance  is  decreas- 
ing ;  and  a  hasty  survey  of  the  trail  ahead  is  not 
reassuring.  From  the  bald  summit  of  the  spur  the 
bridle  path  winds  aroimd  the  head  of  another  gulch, 
and  the  approach  to  the  pass  on  the  farther  side  is  a 
snow-banked  incline,  above  timber  line,  uncovered, 
and  within  easy  rifle-shot  of  the  lull  of  reconnais- 
sance. What  will  befall  is  measurably  certain.  If 
he  attempts  to  head  the  traversing  ravine  on  the 
trail,  his  pursuers  will  reach  the  bald  summit,  wait, 
and  pick  him  off  at  their  leisure  while  he  is  scaling 
the  opposite  snowbank. 

At  the  second  glance  a  dubious  alternative  offers. 
The  gorge  in  the  direct  line  may  not  prove  impass- 
able ;  there  is  a  slender  chance  that  one  may  push 
straight  across  and  up  the  opposing  slope  to  the 
pass  before  the  guns  of  the  enemy  can  be  brought 
into  position.  Wherefore  he  sends  the  horse  at  a 
reckless  gallop  down  the  descent  to  the  gorge,  mak- 
ing shift  to  cling  with  knee  and  heel  while  he  disen- 
gages a  rifle  from  its  sling  under  the  saddle-flap, 
and  fills  its  magazine  with  cartridges  from  a  belt  at 
his  waist. 


220  THE   HELPERS 

At  the  bottom  of  the  ravine  the  alternative 
vanishes ;  becomes  a  thing  inexistent,  in  fact.  The 
gorge  in  its  lower  length  is  a  canyoned  slit,  a  barrier 
to  be  passed  only  by  creatures  with  wangs.  To  re- 
turn is  to  meet  his  pursuers  on  the  bald  summit  of 
the  spur ;  to  hesitate  is  equally  hazardous.  The 
horse  obeys  the  sudden  wrenching  of  the  rein,  spins 
as  on  a  pivot,  and  darts  away  up  the  canyon  brink. 
Fortunately,  the  timber  is  sparse,  and,  luckily  again, 
a  practicable  crossing  is  found  well  within  the  longer 
detour  traced  by  the  trail.  For  the  second  time 
that  day  it  is  a  race  to  the  swift ;  and,  as  before,  an 
accident  comes  between.  Horse  and  man  are  across 
the  ravine,  are  clear  of  the  stunted  firs,  are  mount- 
ing the  final  snow-banked  incline  to  the  pass  wdth 
no  more  than  a  trooper's  dash  between  them  and 
safety,  when  the  sure-footed  beast  slips  on  the  packed 
snow  of  the  trail,  and  horse  and  man  roll  together  to 
the  bottom  of  the  declivity. 

A  few  hours  earlier  this  man  had  been  the  foot- 
ball of  circumstances,  tossed  hither  and  yon  as  the 
buffetings  of  chance  might  impel  him.  But  the 
pregnant  hours  have  wrought  a  curious  change  in 
him,  for  better  or  worse,  and  before  the  breath- 
cutting  plunge  is  checked  he  is  free  of  the  struggling 
horse  and  is  kicking  it  to  its  feet  to  mount  and  ride 
again,  charging  the  steep  uprising  with  plying  lash 
and  disfsrins:  heels  and  shouts  of  encouragement. 
Ten  seconds  later  the  trail  is  regained  and  the  sum- 
mit of  the  pass  cuts  the  sky-line  above  him.  Ten 
other  flying  leaps  and  a  resolute  man  may  hold  an 


THE   HELPERS  221 

army  at  bay.  But  in  the  midst  of  them  comes  a 
clatter  of  hoofs  on  the  rocky  headland  across  the 
gulch,  and  a  nerve-melting  instant  wherein  the  hoof- 
beats  cease  and  the  bleak  heights  give  back  a  muffled 
echo  in  the  rarefied  air.  The  hunted  one  bends  to 
the  saddle-horn  at  the  crack  of  the  rifle,  and  the 
bullet  sings  high.  A  second  is  better  aimed,  and  at 
the  shrill  hiss  of  it  the  snorting  horse  flattens  its 
ears  and  lunges  at  the  ascent  with  flagging  powers 
fear-revived.  A  scrambling  bound  or  two  and  the 
final  height  is  gained,  but  in  the  pivoting  instant 
between  danger  and  safety  a  third  bullet  scores  the 
horse's  back  and  embeds  itself  in  the  cantle  of  the 
saddle  with  a  benumbing  shock  to  the  rider. 

But  by  this  the  fugitive  is  fair  Berserk-mad,  and 
those  who  would  stay  him  must  shoot  to  kill.  Once 
out  of  range  beyond  the  crest  of  the  pass,  he  drags 
the  trembling  horse  to  its  haunches  and  whips  down 
from  the  saddle,  the  wine  of  battle  singing  in  his 
veins  and  red  wrath  answering  for  physical  fitness. 
A  hasty  glance  to  make  sure  that  the  broncho's 
wound  is  not  disabling,  and  he  is  back  at  the  summit 
of  the  pass,  sheltering  himself  behind  a  rock  and 
sending  shot  after  shot  across  the  ravine  at  his 
assailants.  The  fusillade  is  harmless  ;  wounds,  mad 
gallops,  and  red  wrath  being  easily  subversive  of 
accuracy  in  target  practice ;  but  it  has  the  effect  of 
sending  the  enemy  to  the  rear  in  discreet  haste, 
with  the  dropping  shots  beating  quick  time  for  the 
double  quartette  of  trampling  hoofs  as  the  twain 
gallop  out  of  range  behind  the  bald  headland. 


222  THE   HELPERS 

For  a  resolute  half-hour,  while  the  undertow  of 
the  ebbing  minutes  steadily  undermines  the  props  and 
shores  set  up  by  Berserk  wrath,  the  solitary  rifleman 
lies  watclifid  and  vigilant.  Thrice  in  that  interval 
have  the  attackers  rallied ;  once  in  a  desperate 
charge  to  gain  the  cover  of  the  timber  on  the  can- 
yon's brink,  and  twice  in  equally  desperate  efforts 
to  tui'n  the  rifleman's  position  by  following  the 
looping  of  the  trail.  Notwithstanding  the  bad 
marksmanship  of  the  garrison  the  position  has 
proved  —  still  proves  —  impregnable  ;  and  the  end 
of  the  half-hour  leaguer  finds  the  intrenched  one 
secure  in  his  position,  with  the  enemy  in  permanent 
check,  and  only  his  own  waning  strength  to  warn 
him  that  the  pass  cannot  be  held  mdefinitely. 

But  this  warning  is  imjjerative,  as  is  that  other 
of  the  fast  westering  sun  ;  and  when  a  movement  on 
the  opposite  height  gives  him  one  more  chance  to 
announce  volley-wise  that  the  pass  is  still  manned, 
he  retreats  swiftly,  remounts  after  more  than  one 
exhaustive  effort,  and  canters  down  the  farther  wind- 
ings of  the  trail  into  a  valley  shut  in  on  all  sides  by 
snow-coifed  sentinel  mountains,  and  .with  a  brawling 
stream  plunging  through  its  midst ;  into  this  valley 
and  down,  the  length  of  it  to  a  narrowing  of  the 
stream  path,  where  a  rude  cabin,  with  its  door 
hanging  awry,  looks  across  from  the  heel  of  the 
western  cliff  to  the  gray  dump  of  a  tunnel-opening 
in  the  opposite  mountain  side. 

The  sun  has  already  set  for  the  lower  slopes  of 
the  shut-in  valley,  and  the  frosty  breath  of  the  snow- 


THE   HELPERS  223 

capped  sentinel  peaks  is  in  the  air.  At  the  door  of 
the  cabin  the  winner  in  the  desperate  race  slides 
from  the  saddle.  His  knees  are  quaking,  and  be- 
cause of  them  he  stumbles  and  falls  over  the  I02: 
doorstone,  cursing-  his  helplessness  in  the  jolt  of  it. 
But  there  remains  much  to  be  done,  and  the  sunset 
glories  are  changing  from  crimson  and  dusky  gold 
on  the  snow-cajjs  to  royal  purple  in  the  shadow  of 
the  western  cliff. 

With  many  slippings  and  stumblings  he  crosses 
the  foot-log  and  climbs  to  the  level  of  the  tunnel- 
opening  opposite,  constraining  the  unwilling  horse  to 
follow.  With  a  stone  for  a  hammer  he  tacks  a 
square  of  paper  on  one  of  the  struts  of  the  timbered 
entrance  ;  and  after  another  struggle  feebly  fierce 
the  horse  is  dragged  into  the  low-browed  cavern  and 
tethered  out  of  harm's  way.  By  the  leaden-footed 
step  of  the  man  one  would  say  that  the  last  re- 
serves of  determination  have  been  called  in  and  are 
far  spent ;  but  he  wiU  not  desist.  With  four  stakes 
taken  from  the  heap  of  wooden  treenails  used  in  the 
tunnel  timbering  he  drags  himself  from  corner  to 
corner  of  the  claim,  pacing  its  boundaries  and  mark- 
ing the  points  of  intersection  with  dogged  exactness. 
When  the  final  stake  is  driven  he  can  no  longer 
stand  upright,  and  is  fain  to  win  back  to  the  tunnel 
on  hands  and  knees  with  groans  and  futile  tooth- 
gnashlngs. 

But  the  aftermath  of  the  task  still  waits  ;  shall 
wait  until  he  has  barricaded  the  tunnel's  mouth  with 
an  up-piling  of  timbers,  fragments  of  rock,  odds  and 


224  THE   HELPERS 

ends  movable,  with  a  counterscarp  of  loose  earth  to 
make  it  biilk't-i)roof  —  the  last  scraped  up  with 
bleeding  hands  from  the  debris  at  the  head  of  the 
dump. 

This  done,  he  drags  himself  over  the  barricade, 
finds  the  saddle-bags  again,  and  strikes  a  light.  The 
candle  flame  is  but  a  yellow  puncture  in  the  thick 
gloom  of  the  timnel,  but  it  serves  his  purpose,  which 
is  to  scrawl  a  few  words  on  a  blank  page  of  an 
engineer's  note-book,  —  sole  reminder  of  the  thrifty 
forecast  of  saner  days  beyond  the  descent  into  the 
nether  depths.  An  imprecation  bubbles  up  to 
punctuate  the  signature ;  a  pointless  cursing,  which 
is  no  more  than  a  verbal  mask  for  a  gToan  extorted 
by  the  agony  of  the  effort  to  guide  the  pencil  point. 
The  mahson  strings  itself  out  into  broken  sentences 
of  justification  ;  mere  ravings,  as  pointless  as  the 
curse.  "  Finders  are  keepers,  —  that 's  the  law  of 
the  strong.  '  He  that  hath  clean  hands  shall  be 
stronger  and  stronger.'  I  found  it  and  gave  it 
back,  and  he  drowned  it  in  a  bottle.  .  .  .  Now 
it  is  mine  ;  and  to-morrow  I  '11  be  dead.  But  she  '11 
know  that  I  have  n't  —  that  I  have  n't  —  quite  — 
forgotten." 

To  pain-blurred  eyes  the  candle  flame  has  faded 
to  a  nebulous  point  in  the  darkness,  but  still  the 
light  suffices.  He  has  neither  envelope  nor  sealing- 
wax,  but  he  makes  shift  to  seal  the  book  with  a 
wrapping  of  twine  and  a  bit  of  pitch  scraped  fiom 
the  nearest  strut  in  the  timbering.  After  which  he 
seeks  and  finds  the  crevice  in  which  Garvin  kept  his 


THE   HELPERS  225 

explosives  ;  and  when  the  note-book  is  safely  hidden, 
drops  exhausted  behind  the  breastwork,  with  the 
rifle  at  his  shoulder,  beginning  his  vigil  what  time 
the  first  silvery  flight  of  moon-arrows  is  pouring 
upon  cliff-face  and  cabin  opposite. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

It  is  a  fact  no  less  deprecable  than  true  that 
events  in  orderly  sequence  do  not  always  lend  them- 
selves to  the  purposes  of  a  chronicler  who  would  be, 
glad  to  prick  in  his  climaxes  with  a  pen  borrowed 
of  the  dramatist.  With  some  httle  labor,  and  the 
help  of  not  a  few  coincidences  which  may  fairly  be 
called  fortuitous,  the  march  of  events  in  the  life  of 
Henry  Jeffard  has  led  up  to  a  point  at  which  the 
fictional  unities  pause,  confidently  anticipative  of  a 
climax  which  shall  reecho  the  heroic  struggle  of  the 
Spartan  few  at  Thermopyla?,  or  the  daring-do  of 
the  Pontine  Horatius.  But  the  facts  are  inexorable 
and  altogether  disappointing.  AVith  prologue  and 
stage-setting  for  a  Sophoclean  tragedy,  the  piece 
halts  ;  hangs  in  the  wind  at  the  critical  conjuncture 
like  a  misstaying  ship ;  becomes,  in  point  of  fact,  a 
mere  modern  comedy-drama  with  a  touch  of  ti'avesty 
in  it ;  and  the  unities,  fictional  and  dramatic,  shriek 
and  expire. 

This  humiliating  failure  of  the  dramatic  possibili- 
ties turns  ui^on  an  uiconsequent  pivot-pin  in  the 
human  mechanism,  namely,  the  lack  of  courage  in 
the  last  resort  in  men  of  low  degree.  To  kidnap  a 
drunken  man  or  to  pistol  an  unarmed  one  is  one 
thing ;  to  force  a  sky-pitched  Gibraltar  defended  by 


THE    HELPERS  227 

a  resolute  fellow-being  with  a  modern  high-power 
repeating"  rifle  and  an  itching  trigger-finger  is  quite 
another.  This  was  the  conservative  point  of  view 
of  the  aliased  ones  ;  and  after  the  final  futile  at- 
tempt to  gain  the  trail  and  the  cover  of  the  timber, 
the  twain  held  a  council  of  war,  vilified  their  luck, 
and  sounded  a  retreat. 

Thus  it  came  about  that  Denby  and  his  man, 
riding  tantivy  to  the  rescue,  met  the  raiders  two 
miles  down  the  trail  Aspenward ;  and  having  this 
eye-assurance  that  the  foray  had  failed,  the  promoter 
was  minded  to  go  back  to  town  to  await  Jeffard's 
return.  But,  having  the  eye-assurance,  he  was  not 
imwilling  to  add  another.  Bartrow's  telegram  had 
named  the  figure  of  the  assay ;  the  incredible  num- 
ber of  dollars  and  cents  to  the  ton  to  be  sweated  out 
of  the  bonanza  drift.  Now  assays  are  assays,  but 
investment  is  shy  of  them,  demanding  mill  -  runs, 
and  conservative  estimates  based  on  averages ;  and 
pondering  these  things  the  rescuer  reverted  to  his 
normal  character  of  capitaKst  in  ordinary  to  money- 
less bonanzists,  and  determined  to  go  on  and  see  for 
himself.  Accordingly,  Jeffard's  unexpected  rein- 
forcements pressed  forward  while  the  enemy  was  in 
full  tide  of  retreat ;  and  a  short  half-hour  later  the 
squadron  of  retrieval  came  near  to  paying  the  pen- 
alty of  an  unheralded  approach,  since  it  was  upon 
the  promoter  and  his  henchman  that  Jeffard  poured 
his  final  volley. 

So  much  for  the  tragi-comedy  of  the  sky-pitched 
Gibraltar,  which  made  a  travesty  of  Jeffard's  heart- 


228  THE   HEI.PERS 

breiiking  efforts  to  fortify  himself  in  the  old  tunnel. 
And  as  for  the  apparent  determination  to  die  open- 
eyed  and  militant  behind  the  barricade,  the  un- 
romantic  truth  again  steps  in  to  give  the  coup  de 
grace  to  the  disappointed  unities.  There  is  a  limit 
to  human  endurance,  and  the  hardiest  soldier  may 
find  it  on  a  field  as  yet  no  more  than  half  won. 
Fastings  and  fierce  hurryings,  wounds,  physical  and 
spiritual,  and  ruthless  determination  may  ride  rough- 
shod over  Nature's  turnpike ;  but  Nature  will  de- 
mand her  toll.  For  this  cause  Jeffard  saw  no  more 
than  the  first  flight  of  moon-arrows  glancing  from 
the  face  of  the  western  cliff.  Long  before  the 
Selenean  archers  were  fairly  warmed  to  their  work 
he  had  fallen  asleep,  with  his  cheek  on  the  carved 
grip  of  the  borrowed  rifle ;  a  lost  man  to  all  intents 
and  purposes,  if  tlie  fictional  unities  had  not  been 
put  to  flight  by  the  commonplace  fact. 

Behold  him,  then,  awakening  what  time  the  vol- 
leying sun  has  changed  places  with  the  moon- 
archers.  The  barricaded  tunnel  has  a  dim  twilight 
of  its  own,  but  out  and  abroad  the  day  is  come,  and 
the  keen  air  is  tinnient  with  the  fine  treble  of  the 
mountain  morning.  The  slanting  sun-fire  spatters 
the  gray  cliff  opposite,  and  a  spiral  of  blue  smoke  is 
curling  peacefully  above  the  chimney  of  the  eabm. 
And  in  the  shallows  of  the  stream  a  man,  who  is 
neither  desperado  black  or  red,  is  bathing  the  legs 
of  a  horse.  Under  such  conditions  one  may  imagine 
a  recreant  sentry  rubbing  his  eyes  to  make  sure,  and 
presently  chmbing  the  barricade  to  slide  down  the 
dump  into  parley  range,  question-charged. 


THE   HELPERS  229 

Denby  unbent,  smiling.  "  Did  n't  I  say  that  you 
were  an  inconsiderate  madman  ?  You  had  to  sleep 
or  die." 

"  But  when  did  you  get  here  ?  " 

"About  the  time  the  proxies  would  have  arrived, 
if  you  had  n't  succeeded  in  discouraging  them.  It 
was  late ;  much  later  than  it  would  have  been  if  you 
had  n't  given  us  such  an  emphatic  stand-off  at  the 
summit.  Come  across  and  have  some  breakfast 
with  us." 

Jeffard  foimd  the  foot-log  and  made  shift  to  walk 
it. 

"Did  I  fire  at  you?  I  thought  it  was  another 
charge  coming.     They  had  been  trying  to  rush  me." 

"  So  I  inferred.  We  camped  down  out  of  range 
and  gave  you  plenty  of  time.  You  may  be  no 
marksman,  but "  —  He  finished  the  sentence  in 
dumb  show  by  taking  off  liis  hat  and  pointing  to  a 
bullet  score  in  the  crown  of  it.  "  A  few  inches 
lower  and  you  woidd  have  spoiled  your  first  chance 
of  capitalizing  the  Midas.  How  do  you  feel  this 
morning  ?  " 

"A  bit  unresponsive,  but  better  than  I  have  a 
right  to  expect.     What  became  of  the  two  raiders  ?  " 

"  We  met  them  riding  a  steeplechase  toward 
town.  You  discouraged  them,  as  I  said.  From 
Donald's  count  of  the  bullet-splashes  on  that  bald 
smnmit  you  must  have  gotten  in  your  work  pretty 
lively." 

Jeffard  lowered  the  hammer  of  the  rifle  and 
emptied  the  magazine.     "  It 's  a  good  weapon,"  he 


230  THE   HELPERS 

said.  "I  believe  1  could  learn  to  shoot  with  it, 
after  a  while.     Will  you  sell  it?" 

"  Not  to  any  one.  But  I  "11  make  you  a  present 
of  it.  Let 's  go  in  and  see  what  Donald  has  found 
in  his  saddle-bags.     It 's  a  fine  breakfast  morning." 

So  they  went  into  the  cabin  and  sat  at  meat  on 
either  side  of  a  rough  table  of  Garvin's  contriving, 
and  were  served  by  a  solemn-faced  Scot,  whose  skill 
as  a  camp  cook  was  commensurate  wth  his  ability 
to  hold  his  tongue.  Notwithstanding  the  presumable 
urgencies  the  brealtfast  talk  was  not  of  business. 
Jeffard  would  have  had  it  so,  but  Denby  forbade. 

"  Not  yet,"  he  objected.  "  Not  until  you  have 
caught  up  with  yourself.  After  breakfast  Donald 
will  sling  you  a  blanket  hanunock  under  the  trees, 
and  you  shall  sleep  the  clock  around.  Then  you  '11 
feel  fit,  and  we  can  talk  futures  if  you  please." 

If  there  were  a  prompting  of  suspicion  in  the 
glance  with  which  Jeffard  met  this  proposal  it  re- 
mained in  abeyance.  With  every  embrasure  gunned 
and  manned  the  fortress  of  this  life  must  always  be 
pregnable  on  the  human  side ;  in  the  last  resort 
one  must  trust  something  to  the  chance  of  loyalty  in 
the  garrison.  Wherefore  Jeffard  accepted  the  pro- 
moter's pipe  and  the  blanket  hammock,  and  feU 
asleep  while  Donald  was  pulling  down  the  barricade 
at  the  tunnel's  mouth  preparatory  to  liberating  the 
neighing  horse  stabled  in  the  heading. 

It  was  evening,  just  such  another  as  that  one 
three  months  agone,  in  the  heart  of  which  two  men 
had  sat  at  the  cabin  door  looking  a  little  into  each 


THE   HELPERS  231 

other's  past,  when  JefParcl  opened  his  eyes.  The 
three  horses,  saddled,  but  with  loose  cinches,  were 
cropping  the  sun-cured  grass  on  the  level  which 
served  as  a  dooryard  for  the  cabin  ;  and  an  appetiz- 
ing smell  of  frying  bacon  was  abroad  in  the  air. 
Jeffard  sat  up  yawning,  and  the  promoter  rose  from 
the  doorstep  and  rapped  the  ashes  from  his  pipe. 

"  Feel  better?  "  he  queried. 

"  I  feel  like  a  new  man.  I  had  n't  realized  that 
I  was  so  nearly  spent." 

"  That  is  why  I  prescribed  the  blanket.  Another 
day  would  have  finished  you." 

Jeffard  slid  out  of  the  hammock  and  went  to 
plunge  liis  face  and  hands  in  the  stream ;  after 
which  they  ate  again  as  men  who  postpone  the  lesser 
to  the  greater ;  with  Donald  the  taciturn  serving 
them,  and  hunger  waiving  speech  and  ceremony. 

It  was  yet  no  more  than  twilight  when  the  meal 
was  finished ;  and  Denby  found  a  candle  and 
matches  in  the  henchman's  sadtUebags. 

"  If  you  are  ready,  we  '11  go  up  to  the  tunnel  and 
have  another  look  at  the  lead  before  we  go,"  he 
said.  "  I  have  been  examining  it  to-day,  and  I  '11 
make  you  a  proposition  on  the  ground,  if  you  like." 

Jeffard  pieced  out  the  inference  with  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  saddled  horses. 

"  Do  we  go  back  to-night  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  if  you  are  good  for  it.  It  has  been  a 
pretty  warm  day  for  the  season,  and  we  are  like  to 
have  more  of  them.  There  is  a  good  bit  of  snow 
on  the  trail,  and  if  it  softens  we  shall  be  shut  in. 


23li  THK   HELPERS 

That 's  one  reason,  and  another  is  this  :  if  we  make 
a  deal  and  mean  to  get  any  machinery  in  here  before 
snow  flies  and  the  range  is  blocked,  we  've  got  to  be 
about  it." 

Jeffard  nodded  acquiescence,  and  they  fared  forth 
to  cross  the  foot-log  and  toil  up  the  shelving  slope 
of  the  gray  dimip.  It  was  a  stiff  climb  for  a  whole 
man,  and  at  the  summit  Jeffard  sat  down  with  his 
hands  to  his  head  and  his  teeth  agrind. 

"  By  Jove !  but  that  sets  it  in  motion  again  in 
good  shape !  "  he  groaned.  "  Sit  dowii  here  and 
let 's  talk  it  out  in  the  open.  I  dont  care  to  bur- 
row." 

Denby  pocketed  his  candle,  and  they  sat  together 
on  the  brink  of  the  dimip,  with  their  backs  to  the 
opening ;  and  thus  it  chanced  that  neither  of  them 
saw  a  shadowy  figure  skulking  among  the  firs  beside 
the  tunnel's  mouth.  When  they  began  to  talk  the 
figure  edged  nearer,  flitting  ghostlike  from  tree  to 
tree,  and  finally  crouching  under  the  penthouse  of 
the  tunnel  timbering. 

The  crmison  and  mauve  had  faded  out  of  the 
western  sky  when  the  two  at  the  dimijj-head  rose, 
and  Jeffard  said :  "  Your  alternative  is  fair  enough, 
It 's  accepted,  without  conditions  other  than  this  — 
that  you  will  advance  me  a  few  himdred  dollars  for 
my  own  purposes  some  time  within  thirty  days." 

"  You  need  n't  make  that  a  condition  ;  I  should 
be  glad  to  tide  you  over  in  any  event.  But  I  am 
sorry  you  won't  let  me  buy  in.  As  I  have  said, 
there  is  enough  here  for  both  of  us." 


THE   HELPERS  233 

The  aftermath  of  the  getting  up  was  a  sharp 
agony,  and  Jeffard  had  his  hands  to  his  head  again. 
When  he  answered  it  was  to  say  :  — 

"  I  sha'n't  sell.  There  are  reasons,  and  you  may 
take  this  for  the  lack  of  a  better.  A  while  back, 
when  a  single  meal  in  the  day  was  sometimes  beyond 
me,  I  used  to  say  that  if  the  tide  should  ever  turn 
I'd  let  the  money  go  on  piling  up  and  up  until  there 
was  no  possibility  of  hunger  in  an  eternity  of  futures. 
You  say  the  tide  has  turned." 

"  It  has,  for  a  fact ;  and  I  don't  know  that  I 
blame  you.  If  it  were  mine  I  should  probably  try 
to  keep  it  whole." 

Jeffard  went  on  as  one  who  follows  out  his  own 
train  of  thought  regardless  of  answers  relevant  or 
impertinent.  "  I  said  that,  and  I  don't  know  that  I 
have  changed  my  mind.  But  before  we  strike  hands 
on  the  bargain  it  may  be  as  weU  to  go  back  to  the 
question  which  you  were  good  enough  to  leave  in 
abeyance  yesterday." 

"  The  question  of  ethics  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  am  going  to  take  something  for  granted,  if 
you  don't  choose  to  be  frank  with  me." 

"  It  will  be  safer  to  take  nothing  for  granted." 

"  But  the  claim  is  yours  ?  " 

"  Legally,  yes  ;  there  wiU  be  no  Ktigation." 

"  But  honestly,  as  man  to  man."  Denby  put  his 
hands  on  the  wounded  man's  shoidders,  and  turned 
him  about  so  that  the  fading  light  in  the  west  fell 
upon  his  face.     "  My  dear  fellow,  I  've  known  you 


234  THE   HELPERS 

but  a  day,  but  your  face  is  n't  the  face  of  a  scoun- 
drel. I  can't  believe  that  the  man  who  made  the 
magnificent  fight  that  you  did  would  make  it  to 
overreach  his  partner." 

Jeffard  turned  aside,  with  a  backward  step  that 
freed  him  from  the  friendly  hands.  Twice  he  tried 
to  sj^eak,  and  at  the  third  attempt  the  words  came 
but  haltingly. 

"  It  will  be  better  in  the  end  —  better  for  all  con- 
cerned —  if  you  —  if  you  do  believe  it.  Believe  it, 
and  cause  it  to  be  believed,  if  you  choose.  I  have 
counted  the  cost,  and  am  ready  to  take  the  conse- 
quences." 

Denby  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets  and  be- 
gan to  tramp,  three  paces  and  a  turn,  across  and 
across  the  narrow  embankment.  A  little  light  was 
beginning  to  sift  in  between  the  man  and  his  mys- 
tery, but  it  was  not  of  the  sun. 

"  Mr.  Jeffard,  I  'd  like  to  ask  a  question.  You 
need  n't  answer  it  if  you  don't  want  to.  Do  you 
know  who  drove  this  tunnel  ?  " 

"  I  do." 

"  Was  it  the  man  who  raced  you  from  Leadville 
to  Aspen,  and  who  shot  you  when  you  tried  to  bluff 
him  by  making  him  believe  that  you  had  already 
located  the  claim  in  your  own  name  ?  " 

"  It  was." 

"  Then,  to  put  it  plainly,  you  are  the  aggressor, 
after  all.  You  have  really  jumped  youi'  partner's 
claim." 

The  promoter  stopped  and  faced  his  man,  and  the 


THE   HELPERS  235 

skulker  at  the  tunnel's  mouth  crept  nearer,  as  a 
listener  who  may  not  miss  a  word. 

"  That  is  what  men  will  say,  I  suppose ;  and  I 
shall  not  contradict  them.  He  has  forfeited  his 
right.*'  Jeffard  said  it  with  eyes  downcast,  but 
there  was  no  incertitude  in  the  words. 

"  Forfeited  his  right  ?  How  ?  By  shooting  at 
you  in  a  very  natural  fit  of  frenzied  rage  ?  I  can't 
believe  that  you  realize  the  enormity  of  this  thing, 
Mr.  Jeffard.  You  are  new  to  the  West.  It  is  true 
that  the  law  can't  touch  you,  but  public  opinion,  the 
sentiment  of  a  mining  region,  will  brand  you  as  the 
basest  of  thieves." 

"  That  is  the  public's  privilege.  I  shall  not 
attempt  to  defend  myself  —  to  you,  or  to  any  one. 
The  consequences  are  mine  to  suffer  or  to  ignore." 

"  You  can't  ignore  them.  Your  best  friends  will 
turn  upon  you,  and  mining-camp  justice  will  not 
only  acquit  the  man  who  tried  to  kill  you  — ^  it  will 
fight  for  him  and  condemn  you." 

"  But  yesterday  you  said  it  would  have  given  me 
the  benefit  of  the  doubt  and  lynched  him.  I  can 
fight  my  own  battle." 

"  Yes,  I  did  say  so  ;  and,  lacking  your  own  evi- 
dence against  yourself,  it  will  condemn  him  yet. 
Had  you  thought  of  that  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Denby,  I  have  answered  your  questions  be- 
cause you  had  a  right  to  ask  them.  To  the  public  I 
shall  neither  deny  nor  affirm." 

"  Then  you  '11  have  the  choice  of  posing  as  a 
scoundrel  on  the  one  hand,  or  of  consenting  to  the 


23G  THE   HELPERS 

death  or  imprisonment  of  a  measurably  innocent 
man  on  the  other.     I  don't  envy  you." 

"  It  is  my  own  affair,  as  you  were  good  enough  to 
say  yesterday.  Do  you  wish  to  \vithdraw  your  pro- 
posal ?  " 

Denby  took  time  to  think  about  it,  pacing  out  his 
decision  what  time  the  moon  was  beginning  to  silver 
the  western  snow-caps. 

"  No  ;  as  I  have  made  it  and  you  have  accepted  it, 
the  proposal  is  merely  a  matter  of  service  to  be  ren- 
dered and  paid  for  ;  I  furnish  the  capital  to  work 
the  mine  for  a  year  for  a  certain  portion  of  the  out- 
put. But  if  you  had  taken  me  up  on  the  original 
projaosition,  I  shoidd  beg  to  be  excused.  Under  the 
circimistances,  I  should  n't  care  to  be  a  joint  owner 
with  you." 

"  You  could  n't  be,"  said  Jeffard  briefly  ;  "  you, 
nor  any  one  else." 

"  Well,  we  are  agreed  as  to  that.  Shall  we  go 
now?  Donald  is  waiting,  and  the  moon  will  be  up 
by  the  time  we  strike  the  trail." 

"  One  moment ;  I  have  left  something  in  the 
tunnel." 

Jeffard  turned  back  toward  the  timbered  archway, 
and  the  promoter  went  with  him.  In  the  act  a 
shadowy  figure  darted  into  the  mouth  of  gloom  and 
was  seen  by  Denby. 

«  What  was  that  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  see  anything." 

Denby  stumbled  over  the  remains  of  the  barricade. 
"That  must  have  been  what  I  saw," he  said.     "  But 


THE  HELPERS  237 

at  the  moment  I  could  have  sworn  it  was  a  man 
dodging  into  the  tunnel." 

A  few  feet  from  the  entrance  Jeffard  felt  along 
the  wall  for  the  crevice,  found  it,  and  presently 
thrust  the  note-book  into  Denby's  hands. 

"  You  may  remember  that  I  told  you  I  should 
leave  my  will  here  against  a  contingency  which 
seemed  altogether  probable.  In  view  of  what  has 
since  passed  between  us,  I  sha'n't  hold  you  to  your 
promise  to  act  as  my  executor  ;  but  if  anything 
happens  to  me  I  shall  be  glad  if  you  will  send  that 
book  under  seal  to  Dick  Bartrow.  You  wiU  do  that 
much  for  me,  won't  you  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  That  is  all ;  now  I  am  at  your  service." 

A  few  minutes  later  the  cabin  and  the  bit  of 
dry  sward  in  front  of  it  were  deserted,  and  the  whis- 
pering firs  had  swallowed  up  the  last  faint  echoes  of 
minishing  hoof-beats.  Not  until  the  silence  was  un- 
broken did  the  shadowy  figure  venture  out  of  its 
hiding  in  the  timnel  to  stumble  blmdly  down  the 
dump,  across  the  foot-log,  and  so  to  the  cabin  door. 
Here  it  went  down  on  hands  and  knees  to  quarter 
the  ground  Hke  a  hrmgry  animal  in  search  of  food. 
Unhappily,  the  simile  is  no  simile.  It  was  James 
Garvin,  who,  for  the  better  part  of  two  days,  had 
not  tasted  food.  And  when  finally  the  patient 
search  was  rewarded  by  the  retrieval  of  a  few  scraps 
of  bacon  and  pan-bread,  the  broken  meats  of  Don- 
ald's supper-table,  the  starving  fugitive  feU  upon 
them  with  a  beastlike  growl  of  trimnph.     But  in  the 


238  THE   HELPERS 

midst  of  the  scanty  feast  he  dropped  the  bread  and 
meat  to  cover  his  face  with  his  liands,  rocking  hack 
and  foi-th  in  his  misery  and  sobbing  like  a  child. 

"  Oh,  my  Gawd  !  —  ef  I  had  n't  hearn  it  out'n 
his  own  mouth  .  .  .  and  me  a-lovin'  him  thess  like 
he  'd  been  blood-kin  to  me !     Oh,  my  Gawd !  " 


CHAPTER  XXII 

It  was  rather  late  in  the  autumn,  too  late  to  admit 
of  a  rush  of  prospectors  to  the  shut-in  valley,  when 
the  fame  of  the  new  gold-bearing  district  in  the  Elk 
Mountains  began  to  be  noised  about.  As  bonanza 
fame  is  like  to  be,  the  earlier  bruitings  of  it  were  as 
nebulous  as  the  later  and  more  detailed  accounts 
were  fabulous.  Some  garbled  story  of  the  fight  for 
possession  found  its  way  into  the  newspapers ;  and 
since  this  had  its  starting-point  in  the  resentment 
of  the  Aspen  newsgatherer  who  had  been  so  curtly 
sent  to  the  right-about  by  Jeffard,  it  became  the 
basis  of  an  accusation,  wliich  was  scathing  and  fear- 
less, or  covert  and  retractable,  in  just  proportion  to 
the  obsequiousness  of  the  journalistic  accusers. 

In  its  most  favorable  rendering  this  story  was  an 
ugly  one ;  but  here  again  chance,  in  the  form  of 
reportorial  inaccuracy,  was  kind  to  Jeffard.  From 
his  boyhood  people  had  been  stumbling  over  his 
name ;  and  with  ample  facilities  for  verifying  the 
spelling  of  it  the  reporters  began,  continued,  and 
ended  by  making  it  "  Jeffers,"  "  Jeffreys,"  and  in  one 
instance  even  "  Jefferson."  Hence,  with  Bartrow 
as  the  single  exception,  no  one  who  knew  Jeffard 
identified  him  with  the  man  who  had  figured  as  the 
putative  villain-hero  in  the  fight  for  possession. 


240  THE  HELPERS 

Bartrow  read  the  account  of  the  race,  the  shooting 
affray,  and  the  subsequent  details  of  the  capitalizing 
of  the  Midas,  with  Denby  as  its  promoter  and  Jef- 
fard  as  sole  owner,  with  judgment  suspended.  It 
was  not  in  him  to  condemn  any  man  unheard  ;  and 
Jeffard  had  put  himself  safely  out  of  reach  of  query- 
ings,  friendly  or  otherwise,  by  burying  himself  for 
the  winter  with  the  development  force  which  the 
promoter  had  hurried  across  the  range  before  the 
snows  isolated  the  shut-in  valley.  Later,  when  he 
had  to  pay  the  note  in  the  Leadville  bank,  Bartrow 
had  a  twinge  of  dismay ;  but  again  invincible  fair- 
ness came  to  the  rescue,  and  he  lifted  the  dishonored 
paper  at  a  time  when  he  could  ill  afford  to,  promis- 
ing himself  that  this,  too,  should  be  held  in  solution ; 
should  not  even  be  precipitated  in  confidence  with 
any  one. 

This  promise  he  kept  until  Constance  Elliott 
pkmibed  the  depths  of  him,  as  she  was  prone  to  do 
when  he  gave  evidence  of  having  anything  to  con- 
ceal. The  occasion  was  the  midwinter  ball  of  the 
First  Families  of  Colorado ;  and  having  more  than 
one  score  to  settle  with  the  young  miner,  who  had 
lately  been  conspicuous  only  by  his  absence,  Connie 
had  arbitrarily  revised  Bartrow's  programme, — 
which  contemplated  a  monopoly  of  all  the  dances 
Miss  Van  Vetter  woidd  give  him. 

"  Well,  catalogue  'em  —  what  have  I  done  ?  " 
demanded  the  unabashed  one,  when  she  had  marched 
him  into  that  particular  alcove  of  the  great  hotel 
dining-room  which  did  temporary  duty  as  a  conser- 
vatory. 


THE   HELPERS  241 

"  Several  things."  Stephen  Elliott's  daughter  was 
in  the  mood  called  pertness  in  disagreeable  young 
women.  "  Have  you  quite  forgotten  that  I  stand 
in  loco  2)(i7'entls  to  the  giddy  and  irresponsible  young 
person  whose  card  you  have  covered  with  your  scrawly 
autographs?  " 

The  idea  was  immensely  entertaining  to  the  young 
miner,  who  laughed  so  heartily  that  a  sentunental 
couple  billing  and  cooing  behind  the  fan-palms  took 
wing  immediately.  "You?  you  chaperoning  Myr — 
Miss  Van  Vetter  ?     That 's  a  good  one  !  " 

"  It 's  a  bad  one,  where  you  are  concerned.  What 
do  you  mean  by  such  an  inconsistent  breach  of  the 
proprieties?" 

"  Inconsistent  ?  I  'm  afraid  I  don't  quite  catch 
on." 

"  Yes,  inconsistent.  You  bury  yourseK  for 
months  on  end  in  that  powder-smelly  old  tunnel  of 
yours,  and  about  the  time  we  've  comfortably  for- 
gotten you,  you  straggle  in  with  a  dress-coat  on  your 
arm  and  proceed  to  monopolize  one  of  us.  What 
do  you  take  us  for  ?  " 

It  was  on  the  tip  of  Bartrow's  tongue  to  retort 
that  he  would  very  much  like  to  take  Miss  Van 
Vetter  for  better  or  worse,  but  he  had  not  the  cour- 
age of  his  convictions.  So  he  kept  well  in  the 
middle  of  the  road,  and  made  the  smoke-blackened 
tunnel  his  excuse  for  the  inconsistency. 

"  It  is  n't  '  months,'  Connie  ;  or  at  least  it 's  only 
two  of  them.  You  know  I  'd  be  glad  enough  to 
chase  myseK  into  Denver  every  other  day  if  I  could. 


242  THE   HELPERS 

But  it  is  coming  down  to  brass  tacks  with  us  in  the 
Little  Myriad,  and  I  've  just  got  to  keep  my  eye  on 
the  gun." 

Whereupon  pertness,  or  the  Constance  Elliott 
transmutation  of  it,  vanished,  and  she  made  him  sit 
down. 

"  Tell  me  all  about  the  Little  Myriad,  Dick.  Is 
it  going  to  keep  its  promise  ?  " 

The  Little  Myriad's  owner  sought  and  found  a 
handkerchief,  using  it  mopwise.  Curious  questions 
touching  the  prospects  of  his  venture  on  Topeka 
Mountain  were  beginning  to  have  a  perspiratory 
effect  upon  him. 

"  I  wish  I  could  know  for  sure,  Connie.  Some- 
times I  think  it  will ;  and  some  other  times  I  should 
tliink  it  means  to  go  back  on  me,  —  if  I  dared  to." 

"  Is  n't  the  lead  still  well-defined  ?  "  Constance 
dropped  into  the  mining  technicalities  with  the  easy 
familiarity  of  one  born  in  the  metalliferous  West. 

"  It  is  now  ;  but  two  months  ago,  or  thereabouts, 
it  pinched  out  entirely.     That  is  why  I  hibernated." 

"  Was  the  last  mill-run  encouraging?  " 

"  N-no,  I  can't  say  that  it  was.  The  ore  —  what 
little  there  is  of  it  —  seems  to  grade  rather  lower  as 
we  go  in.  But  it 's  a  true  fissure,  and  it  must  begin 
to  go  the  other  way  when  we  get  deep  enough." 

For  a  half-score  of  fan-sweejjs  Connie  was  silent. 
Then :  "  Is  the  purse  growing  light,  Dickie  ?  Be- 
cause if  it  is,  poppa's  is  stiU  comfortably  fat." 

Bartrow  laughed  in  a  way  to  indicate  that  the 
strain  was  lessened   for  the  moment.     "  I  beheve 


THE   HELPERS  243 

you  and  your  father  would  give  away  the  last  dollar 
you  have  in  the  world.  But  it  has  n't  come  to  a 
fresh  loan  with  me  yet." 

"  When  it  does,  you  know  where  to  float  it." 

"  When  it  does,  I  sha'n't  rob  my  best  friends. 
If  I  have  to  borrow  more  money  for  development, 
I  'ni  afraid  the  loan  will  be  classed  as  '  extra  hazard- 
ous.' But  you  said  there  were  several  things. 
What  else  have  I  done  ?  " 

"  The  next  is  something  you  haven't  done.  You 
have  n't  ^vritten  a  line  to  Mr.  Lansdale  in  all  these 
weeks,  —  not  even  to  thank  him  for  taking  your 
foolish  telegram  about  the  Margaret  Gannon  crisis 
seriously.  And  he  tells  me  he  has  written  you 
twice." 

"  I  'm  a  miserable  sinner,  and  letter  writing  is  n't 
in  me.  Is  Lansdale  here?  I'll  go  and  square 
myseK  in  the  most  abject  formula  you  can  suggest." 

"  He  is  n't  here.    He  is  out  at  Bennett  on  a  ranch." 

"  On  a  ranch  in  midwinter  ?  Who  on  top  of 
earth  told  him  to  do  that  ?  " 

"  One  of  the  doctors.  I  wanted  to  dissuade  him, 
but  I  had  n't  the  heart  to  try.  He  is  so  anxious  to 
Kve." 

"Naturally."  Bartrow  eyed  his  companion  in  a 
way  which  was  meant  to  be  a  measure  of  the  things 
he  knew  and  would  by  no  means  teU,  but  Constance 
was  opening  and  shuttmg  her  fan  with  inthought 
paramount,  and  saw  it  not.  Whereat  Bartrow  was 
brutal  enough  to  say :  "Is  he  going  to  make  a  go 
of  it  ?  " 


241  THE   HELPERS 

"  Oh,  1  hope  so,  Dick !  It  is  such  a  pathetic 
struggle.  And  he  is  like  all  the  others  who  are  best 
worth  keeping  alive  :  he  won't  let  any  one  help  him. 
Just  fancy  him  working  for  his  board  on  a  dreary 
prairie  ranch !  The  monotony  of  it  is  enough  to  kill 
him." 

"  I  should  say  so.     Lamb  ranch,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Then  I  can  imagine  the  hilarity  of  it.  Up  at 
all  sorts  of  hours  and  in  all  weathers  feeding:  and 
watering.  That  is  n't  what  he  needs.  A  wagon 
trip  in  sununer,  with  good  company,  lots  of  out- 
doors, and  nothing  to  do  but  eat  and  sleep,  would 
be  more  like  it.  If  he  pulls  through  to  spring,  and 
the  Myriad  will  let  up  on  me  for  a  month  or  two,  I 
don't  know  but  I  shall  be  tempted  to  make  him  try 
it." 

"  Oh,  Dick  !  would  you  ?  "  There  was  a  quick 
upflash  of  wistful  emotion  in  the  calm  gray  eyes. 
Bartrow  set  it  down  to  a  fresh  gTowth  in  perspica- 
city on  his  own  part  that  he  was  able  to  interpret 
it  —  or  thought  he  was.  But  the  little  upflash  went 
out  like  a  taper  in  the  dark  with  the  added  after- 
thought. *'  It 's  no  use,  Dick.  The  Myriad  won't 
let  you." 

"  Perhaps  it  will ;  though  I  'm  bound  to  admit 
that  it  does  n't  look  that  way  at  present.  Now,  if 
Jef— " 

From  what  has  gone  before  it  will  be  understood 
that  any  mention  of  Jeffard  for  good  or  ill  was  the 
one  thing  which  Bartrow  had  promised  himself  to 


THE   HELPERS  245 

avoid  at  all  hazards ;  wherefore  he  broke  the  name 
in  the  midst,  coughed,  dragged  out  his  watch,  —  in 
short,  did  what  manlike  untactfidness  may  do  to 
create  a  diversion,  and  at  the  end  of  it  found  the 
unafraid  eyes  fixed  upon  him  with  mandatory  orders 
in  them. 

"  Go  on,"  she  said  calmly.     "  If  Mr.  Jeffard  "  — 

"  Really,  Connie,  I  must  break  it  off  short ;  my 
time 's  up.  Don't  you  hear  the  orchestra  ?  Miss 
Van  Vetter  will  "  — 

But  Connie  was  not  to  be  turned  aside  by  any 
consideration  for  Bartrow's  engagements  or  her  own  ; 
nor  yet  by  the  inflow  into  the  alcove-conservatory  of 
sundry  other  fanning  couples  lately  freed  from  the 
hop-and-slide  of  the  two-step.  Nor  yet  again  by  the 
appearance  of  young  Mr.  Theodore  Cahnaine,  who 
came  up  behind  Bartrow  and  was  straightway  trans- 
fixed and  driven  forth  with  pantomimic  cut  and 
thrust. 

"  Myi'a  will  have  no  difficulty  in  finding  a  part- 
ner. Don't  be  foohsh,  Dick.  I  have  laiown  all 
along  that  you  have  learned  something  about  Mr. 
Jeffard  which  you  would  n't  tell  me.  You  may 
remember  that  you  have  persistently  ignored  my 
questions  in  your  answers  to  my  letters,  —  and  I  paid 
you  back  by  telling  you  little  or  nothing  about 
Myra.     Now  what  were  you  going  to  say  ?  " 

"  I  was  going  to  say  that  if  Jeffard  were  like  what 
he  used  to  be,  he  would  do  for  Lansdale  what  I 
shall  probably  not  be  able  to  do." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  Mr.  Jeffard  ?  " 


246  THE   HELPERS 

"  What  all  the  world  knows  —  and  a  little  more. 
Of  course  you  have  read  what  the  newspapers  had 
to  say?" 

"  I  have  never  seen  a  mention  of  his  name." 

"  Why,  you  must  have ;  they  were  full  of  it  a 
month  or  two  ago,  and  will  be  again  as  soon  as  the 
range  opens  and  we  find  out  what  the  big  bonanza 
has  been  doing  through  the  winter.  You  don't 
mean  to  say  that  you  did  n't  read  about  the  free- 
gold  strike  in  the  Elk  Mountains,  and  the  locomo- 
tive race,  and  the  shooting  scrape  in  the  hotel  at 
Aspen,  and  all  that  ?  " 

The  steady  eyes  were  veiled  and  Connie's  breath 
came  in  nervous  little  gasps.  Any  man  save  down- 
right Richard  Bartrow  would  have  made  a  swift 
diversion,  were  it  only  to  an  open  window  or  back 
to  the  ballroom.  But  he  sat  stocklike  and  silent, 
letting  her  win  through  the  speeclilessness  of  it  to 
the  faltered  reply. 

"I  —  I  saw  it ;  yes.  But  the  name  of  that  man 
was  —  was  not  Jeffard." 

"  No,  it  was  Jeffers,  or  anything  that  came  handy 
in  the  newspaper  accounts.  But  that  was  a  report- 
er's mistake." 

"  Dick,"  —  the  steadfast  eyes  were  transfixing 
him  again,  —  "  are  you  quite  sure  of  that  ?  " 

"  I  ought  to  be.  I  was  the  man  who  helped  him 
out  at  the  pinch  and  got  him  started  on  the  locomo- 
tive chase." 

"  You  helped  him  ?  —  then  all  those  things  they 
said  about  him  were  true  ?  " 


THE   HELPERS  247 

It  was  Bartrow's  turn  to  hesitate.  "I  —  I  'm 
trying  not  to  believe  that,  Connie." 

"  But  you  know  the  facts  ;  or  at  least,  more  of 
them  than  the  newspapers  told.  Did  the  claim 
really  belong  to  him,  or  to  James  Garvin?  " 

Bartrow  crossed  his  legs,  uncrossed  them,  and 
again  had  recourse  to  his  watch. 

"  I  wish  you  'd  leave  the  whole  business  up  in  the 
air,  Connie,  the  way  I  'm  trying  to.  It  does  n't 
seem  quite  fair,  somehow,  to  condemn  him  behind 
his  back." 

"  But  the  facts,"  she  insisted.  "  You  know  them, 
don't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  they  're  against  him."  Bartrow  con- 
fessed it  in  sheer  desperation.  "  The  claim  was 
Garvin's ;  Jeffard  not  only  admitted  it,  but  he 
started  out  on  the  chase  with  the  declared  determi- 
nation of  standing  between  Garvin  and  those  two 
blacklegs  who  were  trying  to  plunder  him.  That 's 
all ;  that 's  as  far  as  my  facts  go.  Beyond  that  you 
- — and  the  newspapers —  know  as  much  as  I  do." 

"  Not  quite  all,  Dick.  You  say  you  helped  him  ; 
that  means  that  you  lent  him  money,  or  borrowed  it 
for  him.     Did  he  ever  pay  it  back? " 

Bartrow  got  upon  his  feet  at  that  and  glowered 
down  upon  her  with  mingled  chagTin  and  awe  in 
gaze  and  answer. 

"  Say,  Connie,  you  come  precious  near  to  being 
uncanny  at  times,  don't  you  know  it?  That  was 
the  one  thing  I  did  n't  mean  to  tell  any  one.  Yes, 
I  borrowed  for  him ;  and  no,  he  did  n't  pay  it  back. 


248  THE   HELPERS 

That 's  all  —  all  of  the  all.  If  you  put  me  in  a 
stamp-mill  you  could  n't  pound  out  anything  else. 
Now,  for  pity's  sake,  let  me  get  back  to  Miss  Van 
Vetter  before  I  fall  in  with  the  notion  that  I  'm  too 
transparent  to  be  visible  to  the  naked  eye." 

She  rose  and  took  his  arm. 

"  You  're  good,  Dickie,"  she  said  softly ;  "  much 
too  good  for  this  world.  I  'm  sorry  for  you,  because 
it  earns  you  so  many  buffetings." 

"  And  you  think  I  'm  in  for  another  on  Jeffard's 
account." 

"  I  am  sure  you  are  —  now.  The  last  time  I  saw 
him  he  wore  a  mask ;  a  horrible  mask  of  willful 
degradation  and  cynicism  and  seK-loathing ;  but  I 
saw  behind  it." 

They  were  making  a  slow  circuit  of  the  ballroom 
in  search  of  Connie's  cousin,  and  the  throng  and  the 
music  isolated  them. 

"  What  did  you  see  ?  " 

"  I  saw  the  making  of  a  strong  man ;  strong  for 
good  or  for  evil ;  a  man  who  could  compel  the  world- 
attitudes  that  most  of  us  have  to  sue  for,  or  who 
would  be  strong  enough  on  the  evil  side  to  flout  and 
ignore  them.  I  thought  then  that  he  was  at  the  part- 
ing of  the  ways,  but  it  seems  I  was  mistaken,  —  that 
the  real  balancing  moment  came  with  what  poppa 
calls  the  '  high-mountain  bi-ibe,'  —  Satan's  offer  of 
the  kingdoms  of  this  world  and  the  glory  of  them." 

Now,  a  thronged  ballroom  is  scarcely  a  fit  place 
for  heart-to-heart  outreachings ;  but  there  be  loyal 
hearts  who  are  not  constrained  by  their  encompass- 


THE   HELPERS  249 

ments,  and  Bartrow  was  of  that  brotherhood.  They 
had  attained  a  corner  where  one  might  swing  a 
short-sword  without  fear  of  beheading  the  nearest 
of  the  dancers  or  out-sitters,  and  he  faced  about  and 
took  both  of  Connie's  hands  in  his. 

"  Do  you  know,  little  sister,  I  'm  awfully  glad 
you  're  able  to  talk  that  way  about  him.  There  was 
a  time  when  I  began  to  be  afraid  —  for  your  sake 
first,  and  afterward  for  "  — 

It  is  conceivable  that  the  frankest  of  young  women 
may  have  some  reserves  of  time  and  place,  if  not  of 
subjects,  and  before  honest  Dick  could  finish,  Con- 
stance had  freed  herself  and  was  reproaching  young 
Calmaine  for  not  seeking  her  out  for  the  dance  in 
process,  —  which  was  his. 

Teddy's  apology  had  in  it  the  flavor  of  long  ac- 
quaintance and  the  insolence  thereof.  "  You  're  a 
cool  one,"  he  said,  when  they  had  left  Bartrow  behind. 
"  As  if  I  did  n't  stand  for  five  good  minutes  at  the 
door  of  that  conservatory  place,  with  you  eye-pistol- 
ing and  daggering  me  to  make  me  go  away !  " 

Thinking  about  it  afterward,  Bartrow  wondered 
a  little  that  Connie  seemed  bent  on  ignoring  him 
through  the  remainder  of  the  functional  hours,  large 
and  small,  but  so  it  was.  And  when  finally  he  was 
constrained  to  put  Miss  Van  Vetter  in  the  carriage, 
Connie's  good-night  and  good-by  were  of  the  brief- 
est. Miss  Van  Vetter,  too,  was  silent  on  the  home- 
ward drive,  and  this  Connie  remarked,  charging  it 
openly  to  Dick's  account  when  they  were  before  the 
fire  in  Myra's  room  contemplating  the  necessity  of 
going  to  bed. 


250  THE  HELPERS 

"  No,  Mr.  Bartrow  was  all  that  the  most  exacting 
person  could  demand,  —  and  more,"  said  Miss  Van 
Vetter,  going  to  the  mirror  to  begin  the  relaxing 
process.     "  It  was  something  he  told  me." 

"About  Mr.  Jeffard?" 

"  Yes  ;  how  did  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  know  —  I  guessed." 

"  Is  n't  it  dreadful !  " 

"  No.  Some  of  the  other  things  he  did  might 
have  been  that ;  but  this  is  unspeakable." 

Myra  turned  her  back  upon  the  mirror  and  came 
to  stand  behind  Connie's  chair  with  her  arms  about 
her  cousin's  neck. 

"  Connie,  dear,  do  you  know  that  one  time  I  was 
almost  afraid  that  you,  —  but  now  I  am  glad,  — 
glad  that  your  point  of  view  is  —  is  quite  extrinsic, 
you  know." 

Connie's  gaze  was  upon  the  fire  in  the  grate, 
fresh-stirred  and  glowing,  a  circumstance  wliich  may 
have  accounted  for  the  sudden  trembling  of  the  eye- 
lids and  the  uj)welling  of  tears  in  the  steadfast  eyes. 
And  as  for  the  nervous  little  quaver  in  her  voice, 
there  was  fatigue  to  answer  for  that, 

"I  —  I  'm  so  glad  you  all  take  that  for  granted," 
she  said.  "  I  don't  know  what  I  should  do  if  you 
did  n't." 

And  a  little  later  Myra  went  to  bed  and  to  sleep, 
wondering  if,  after  all,  there  were  not  secret  places 
in  the  heart  of  her  transparent  kinswoman  wliich 
evaded  the  search-warrant  of  cousinly  disinterest. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

The  obsequious  waiter  had  cleared  the  table  and 
brought  in  the  dessert,  and  was  hovering  in  the 
middle  distance  with  two  cigars  in  a  whiskey  glass. 
The  persiflant  young  people  at  the  other  end  of  the 
table  rose  and  went  away,  leaving  a  grateful  silence 
behind  them ;  and  the  clerical  gentleman  at  Lans- 
dale's  right  folded  his  napkin  in  absent-minded 
deference  to  home  habit,  and  slipped  sidewise  out  of 
his  chair  as  if  reluctant  to  mar  the  new-born  hush. 

Bartrow  was  down  from  the  mine  on  the  ostensible 
business  of  restocking  the  commissariat  department 
of  the  Little  Myriad,  —  a  business  which,  prior  to 
Miss  Van  Vetter's  Denver  year,  had  transacted 
"itself  indifferently  well  by  letter,  —  and  Lansdale 
was  dining  with  him  at  the  hotel  by  hospitable  ap- 
pointment. There  were  months  between  this  and 
their  last  meeting,  an  entire  winter,  in  point  of  fact ; 
but  it  is  one  of  the  compensations  of  man-to-man 
friendships  that  they  ignore  absences  and  bridge 
intervals  smootlxly,  uncoupling  and  upcoupling  again 
with  small  jar  of  accountings  for  the  incidents  of 
the  lacuna. 

Becavise  of  the  persiflant  young  people,  the  fire  of 
query  and  rejoinder  had  been  the  merest  shelling 
of  the  woods  on  either  side ;  but  with  the  advent  of 


252  THE   HELPERS 

quiet  Bartrow  said :  "  Your  winter  on  the  lamb- 
ranch  (litl  n't  do  you  much  good,  did  it?" 

"  Think  not  ? "  Lansdale  looked  up  quickly, 
with  a  pathetic  plea  for  heartening  in  the  deep-set 
eyes  of  him.  "  I  was  hoping  you  'd  say  it  had.  I 
feel  stronger  —  at  times." 

Bartrow  saw  the  plea  and  the  pathos  of  it,  and 
added  one  more  to  the  innumerable  contemnings  of 
his  own  maladroitness.  He  was  quite  sure  of  his 
postulate,  however,  —  as  sure  as  he  was  of  the  un- 
necessary cruelty  of  setting  it  in  words.  Lansdale 
was  visibly  failing.  The  clean-shaven  face  was  thin 
to  gauntness,  and  the  dark  eyes  were  unnaturally 
bright  and  wistful.  Bartrow  bribed  the  ubiquitous 
waiter  to  remove  himself,  making  the  incident  an 
excuse  for  changing  the  subject. 

"  Never  saw  or  heard  anything  more  of  Jeffard, 
did  you  ?  "  he  said,  i^itchmg  the  conversational  quoit 
toward  a  known  peg  of  common  interest,  and  takmg 
it  for  granted  that  Lansdale,  like  Connie,  had  not 
read  the  proletary's  name  into  the  newspaper  mis- 
spellings. 

"  Not  a  thing.  And  I  have  often  wondered  what 
happened." 

"  Then  Connie  has  n't  told  you  ?  " 

"  Miss  EUiott  ?  No  ;  I  did  n't  know  she  knew 
him." 

"  She  met  him  a  time  or  two  ;  which  is  another 
way  of  saying  that  she  knows  him  better  than  we 
do.  She  's  a  whole  assay  outfit  when  it  comes  to 
sizing  people  up." 


THE   HELPERS  253 

"What  was  her  opinion  of  Jeffard?"  Lansdale 
was  curious  to  know  if  it  confirmed  his  own. 

"  Oh,  she  thinks  he  is  a  grand  rascal,  of  course,  — 
as  everybody  does." 

"  Naturally,"  said  Lansdale,  having  in  mind  the 
proletary's  later  reincarnations  as  vagrant  and  starve- 
ling. "  You  did  n't  see  much  of  him  after  he  got 
fairly  into  the  toboggan  and  on  the  steeper  grades, 
did  you  ?  " 

"  Here  in  Denver  ?  —  no.  But  what  I  did  see 
was  enough  to  show  that  he  was  pretty  badly  tiger- 
bitten.  You  told  me  afterward  that  he  took  the 
post-graduate  course  in  his  particular  specialty." 

"  He  did ;  sunk  his  shaft,  as  you  mining  folk 
would  say,  straight  on  down  to  the  chaotic  substrata ; 
pawned  himself  piecemeal  to  feed  the  animals,  and 
went  hungry  between  times  by  way  of  contrast." 

"  Poor  devil !  "  said  Bartrow,  speaking  in  the 
past  tense. 

"  Yes,  in  all  conscience ;  but  not  so  much  for 
what  he  suffered  as  for  what  he  was." 

The  distinction  was  a  little  abstruse  for  a  man 
whose  nayword  was  obviousness,  but  for  the  better 
part  of  a  year  Bartrow  had  been  borrowing  of  Miss 
Van  Vetter  ;  among  other  things  some  transplantings 
of  subtlety. 

"  That 's  where  we  come  apart,"  he  objected,  with 
amiable  obstinacy.  "  You  think  the  root  of  the 
thing  is  in  the  man,  —  has  been  in  him  all  along, 
and  only  waiting  for  a  chance  to  sprout.  Now  I 
don't.  I  think  it 's  in  the  atmosphere  ;  in  the  — 
the"  — 


254  THE   HELPERS 

"  En\T[ronment  ?  "  suggested  Lansclale. 

"  Yes,  I  guess  that 's  the  word ;  something  out- 
side of  the  man ;  something  that  he  did  n't  make, 
and  is  n't  altogether  to  blame  for,  and  can't  always 
control." 

The  man  with  a  moiety  of  the  seer's  gift  suffered 
his  eyebrows  to  arch  query-wise.  "  Does  n't  that 
ask  for  a  remodeling  of  the  accepted  theory  of  good 
and  evil  ?  " 

"  No,  you  don't !  "  laughed  Bartrow.  "  You  are 
not  going  to  pull  me  in  over  my  head,  if  I  know  it. 
But  I  '11  ^vrestle  with  you  from  now  till  midnight  on 
my  own  ground.  You  take  the  best  fellow  in  the 
woild,  brought  up  on  good  wholesome  bread  and 
meat  and  the  like,  and  stop  his  rations  for  awhile. 
Then,  when  he  is  hungry  enough,  you  give  him  a 
rag  to  chew,  and  he  '11  proceed  to  chew  it,  —  not 
necessarily  because  he  likes  the  taste  of  the  rag,  or 
because  he  was  born  with  the  rag-chewing  appetite, 
but  simply  for  the  reason  that  you  have  put  it  in 
his  mouth,  and,  being  hungry,  he 's  got  to  chew 
something.     Jeffard  is  a  case  in  point." 

"  Let  us  leave  Jeffard  and  the  personal  point 
of  view  out  of  the  question  and  stand  it  upon  its 
own  feet,"  rejoined  Lansdale,  warming  to  the  fray. 
"  Doubtless  Jeffard's  problem  is  divisible  by  the 
common  human  factor,  whatever  that  may  be,  but 
your  theory  makes  it  too  easy  for  the  evil-doer. 
Consequently  I  can't  admit  it,  —  not  even  in  Jeffard's 
case." 

"  I  could  make  you  admit  it,"  retorted  Bartrow, 


THE   HELPERS  255 

with  generous  warmth,  forgetting  the  dishonored 
note  in  the  Leadville  bank,  and  remembering  only 
the  year  agone  partnership  in  brother-keeping. 
"  You  can  size  people  up  ten  times  to  my  once,  — 
you  ought  to  ;  it 's  right  in  your  line,  —  but  I  know 
Jeffard  worlds  better  than  you  do,  and  I  could  tell 
you  things  about  him  that  would  make  you  weep. 
Since  he  did  those  things  I  've  had  a  rattling  good 
chance  to  change  my  mind  about  him,  but  I  'm  not 
going  to  do  it  till  I  have  to.  I  'm  going  to  keep  on 
believing  that  away  down  deep  under  this  devil' s- 
drif t  of  —  what  was  it  you  called  it  ?  —  environment, 
there 's  a  streak  of  good  clean  ore.  It  may  take  the 
stamp-mill  or  the  smelter  to  get  it  out,  but  it 's  there 
all  the  same.  He  may  fall  down  on  you  and  me 
and  all  of  his  friends  at  any  one  of  a  dozen  pinches, 
—  he  has  fallen  down  on  me,  and  pretty  middling 
hard,  too,  —  but  there  will  come  a  pinch  sometime 
that  will  pull  him  up  short,  and  then  you  '11  see 
what  is  in  the  lower  levels  of  him,  —  what  was  there 
all  the  time,  waiting  for  somebody  to  sink  a  shaft 
deep  enough  to  tap  it." 

Lansdale  took  the  cigar  Bartrow  was  proffering 
and  clipped  the  end  of  it,  reflectively  deliberate. 
He  was  silent  so  long  that  Bartrow  said :  "■  Well  ? 
you  don't  believe  it,  eh?  " 

"  I  would  n't  say  that,"  Lansdale  rejoined  ab- 
stractedly ;  "  anyway,  not  of  Jeffard.  Perhaps  you 
are  right.  He  has  given  me  the  same  impression  at 
times,  but  he  was  always  saying  or  doing  something 
immediately  afterward  to  obliterate  it.     But  I  was 


256  THE  HELPERS 

wondering  why  you  prophesy  so  confidently  about  a 
man  who,  for  aught  we  know,  took  himself  out  of 
the  world  the  better  part  of  a  year  ago." 

"  Suicided  ?  —  not  much !  He  's  alive  all  right ; 
very  much  alive  and  very  much  on  top,  as  far  as 
money  is  concerned.  You  don't  read  the  papers,  I 
take  it?" 

Lansdale's  smile  was  of  weariness.  "  Being  at 
present  a  reporter  on  one  of  them  I  read  them  as 
little  as  may  be.  What  should  I  have  read  that  I 
didn't?" 

"  To  begin  back  a  piece,  you  should  have  read  last 
fall  about  the  big  free-gold  strike  in  the  Elk  IMoun- 
tains,  and  an  exciting  little  scrap  between  two  men 
to  get  the  first  location  on  it." 

"  I  remember  that." 

"  Well,  one  of  the  men  —  the  successful  one  — 
was  Jeffard ;  our  Jeffard.  Your  newspajier  accom- 
plices did  n't  spell  his  name  right,  —  won't  spell  it 
right  yet,  —  but  it 's  Henry  Jeffard,  and  j^esterday's 
'  Coloradoan '  says  he 's  on  his  way  to  Denver  to 
play  leading  man  in  the  bonanza  show." 

Lansdale  went  silent  what  time  it  took  to  splice 
out  the  past  with  the  present.  After  wdiich  he  said : 
"  I  understand  now  why  Miss  Elliott  condemns  him, 
but  not  quite  clearly  why  you  defend  him.  As  I 
remember  it,  the  man  who  got  possession  of  the 
Midas  posed  as  a  highwayman  of  the  sort  that  the 
law  can't  punish.  What  has  he  to  say  for  him- 
self?" 

Bartrow   shook   his    head.     "I    don't    know.     I 


*  THE  HELPERS  267 

have  n't  seen  him  since  one  day  last  fall ;  the  day  of 
the  locomotive  chase." 

"  Did  you  know  then  that  he  was  going  to  steal 
his  partner's  mine  ?  " 

"  No.  I  thought  then  that  he  was  going  to  do 
the  other  thing.  And  I  '11  not  believe  yet  that  he 
has  n't  done  the  other  thing.  It 's  the  finish  I  'm 
betting  on.  He  may  have  flown  the  track  at  all  the 
turns,  —  at  this  last  turn  as  well  as  the  others,  — 
but  when  it  comes  to  the  home  stretch,  you  watch 
him  put  his  shoulder  into  the  collar  and  remember 
what  I  said.      I  hope  we  '11  both  be  there  to  see." 

"  So  be  it,"  Lansdale  acquiesced.  "  It  is  n't  in 
me  to  smash  any  man's  ideal.  And  if  anything 
could  make  me  have  faith  in  my  kind,  I  think  your 
belief  in  the  inherent  virtue  of  the  race  would  work 
the  miracle." 

Bartrow  laughed  again,  and  pushed  back  his 
chair. 

"  It  does  you  a  whole  lot  of  good  to  play  at  being 
a  cold-blooded  man-hater,  does  n't  it  ?  But  it 's  no 
go.  Your  practice  does  n't  gee  with  your  preacliing. 
Let 's  go  out  on  the  porch  and  smoke,  if  it  won't  be 
too  cool  for  you." 

They  left  the  dining-room  together  and  strolled  out 
through  the  crowded  lobby,  lighting  their  cigars  at  the 
news-stand  in  passing.  There  was  a  convention  of 
some  sort  in  progress,  and  a  sprinkling  of  the  dele- 
gates, with  red  siUi  badges  displayed,  was  scattered 
among  the  chairs  on  the  veranda.  Bartrow  found 
two  chairs  a  little  apart  from  the  decorated  ones, 


258  THE   HELPERS 

faced  them,  and  tilted  his  own  against  the  railing. 
When  his  cigar  was  well  alight  he  bethought  him  of 
a  neglected  duty. 

"  By  the  way,  old  man,  I  've  never  had  the  grace 
to  say  '  much  obliged  '  for  your  neatness  and  disj^atch 
in  cariying  out  my  wire  order.  I  suppose  you  've 
forgotten  it  months  ago,  but  I  have  n't.  It  was 
good  of  you.  Connie  wrote  me  about  it  at  the  time, 
and  she  said  a  whole  lot  of  pretty  tilings  about  the 
way  you  climbed  into  the  breach." 

"  Did  she  ?  "  Lansdale's  habitual  reserve  fell  away 
from  him  like  a  cast  garment,  and  if  Bartrow  had 
been  less  oblivious  to  face  readings  he  might  have 
seen  that  which  would  have  made  his  heart  ache. 
But  he  saw  nothing  and  went  on,  following  his  own 
lead. 

"  Yes ;  she  said  you  took  hold  like  a  good  fellow, 
and  hung  on  like  a  dog  to  a  root,  —  that  is,  she 
did  n't  say  that,  of  course,  but  that  was  the  sense  of 
it.     I  'm  obliged,  a  whole  lot." 

"  You  need  n't  be.  The  obligation  is  on  my  side. 
It  was  a  pleasure  to  try  to  help  Miss  Elliott,  even  if 
I  wasn't  able  to  accomplish  anythmg  worth  men- 
tioning." 

"  Yes.  She  's  good  people ;  there  's  no  discount 
on  that.  But  say,  you  didn't  size  up  Pete  Grim 
any  better  than  you  had  to.  A  good  stiff  bluff  is 
about  the  only  thing  he  can  appreciate." 

"  If  you  had  heard  me  talk  to  him  you  would  have 
admitted  that  I  was  trying  to  bluff  liun  the  best  I 
knew  how,"  said  Lansdale. 


THE   HELPERS  259 

Bartrovv  laughed  unfeelingiy.  "  Tried  to  scare 
him  with  a  lawsuit,  did  n't  you  ?  What  do  you  sup- 
pose a  man  like  Grim  cares  for  the  law  ?  Why,  bless 
your  innocent  soul,  he  can  buy  all  the  law  he  needs 
six  days  in  the  week  and  get  it  gratis  on  the  seventh. 
But  you  might  have  fetched  him  down  with  a  gun." 

Lansdale  tried  to  imagine  himself  attempting  such 
a  tiling  and  failed.  "  I  'm  afraid  I  could  n't  have 
done  that  —  successf idly.  It  asks  for  a  little  prac- 
tice, does  n't  it  ?  and  from  what  I  have  learned  of 
Mr.  Peter  Grim  in  my  small  dealings  with  him,  I 
fancy  he  woidd  n't  make  a  very  tractable  lay-figure 
for  a  beginner  to  experiment  on.  But  we  worried 
the  thing  through  after  a  fashion,  and  recovered  the 
young  woman's  sewing-machine  finally." 

"  Bought  Grim  off,  did  n't  you  ?  " 

"  That  was  what  it  amounted  to.  Miss  Elliott's 
father  came  to  the  rescue." 

"  There  's  a  man  for  you ! "  declared  Bartrow. 
"  Built  from  the  gTOund  up,  and  white  all  the  way 
through.  And  Connie  's  just  like  him.  She  's  first 
cousin  to  the  angels  when  she  is  n't  making  game  of 
you.  But  I  suppose  you  don't  need  to  have  any- 
body sing  her  praises  to  you  at  this  late  day." 

"  No ;  that  is  why  I  say  the  obligation  is  on  my 
side.  I  am  indebted  to  your  '  wire  order  '  for  more 
things  than  I  could  well  catalogue." 

Bartrow  rocked  gently  on  the  hinder  legs  of  his 
chair,  assuring  himself  that  one  of  the  things  needed 
not  to  be  listed.  After  which  he  became  diplomati- 
cally  abstruse   on   his  own  accoimt.     Two  of  the 


260  THE   HELPERS 

decorated  ones  came  by,  promenading  arm  in  arm, 
and  he  waited  until  they  were  out  of  hearing. 

"  Found  them  good  i)eople  to  know,  did  n't  you  ? 
Bneno!  You  used  to  hibernate  a  heap  too  much." 
Then,  with  labored  indifference  :  "  What  do  you 
think  of  Miss  Van  Vetter  ?  " 

Lansdale  laughed. 

"  AVhatever  you  would  like  to  have  me  think,  my 
dear  boy.  Shall  I  say  that  she  is  the  quintessence 
of  all  the  virtuous  graces  and  the  gracefid  virtues  ? 
—  a  paragon  of  para  —  " 

"  Oh,  come  off !  "  growled  the  abstruse  one. 
"  You  've  been  taking  lessons  of  Connie.  You  know 
what  I  mean.  Do  I  —  that  is  —  er  —  do  you  think 
I  stand  a  ghost  of  a  show  there?     Honest,  now." 

"  My  dear  Richard,  if  I  coidd  look  into  the  heart 
of  a  young  woman  and  read  what  is  therein  written, 
I  could  pass  jDoverty  in  the  street  with  a  nod  con- 
temptuous.    I  'd  be  a  made  man." 

"  Oh,  you  be  hanged,  will  you  ?  You  're  a  wild 
ass  of  the  lamb-ranches,  and  wisdom  has  shook  you," 
Bartrow  rejoined,  relapsing  into  vituperation.  "  Why 
can't  you  quit  braying  for  a  minute  or  so  and  be 
serious  ?     It 's  a  serious  world,  for  the  bigger  part." 

"  Do  you  find  it  so  ?  with  a  Miss  Van  Vetter  for 
an  eye-piece  to  your  telescope  ?     I  am  astonished." 

Bartrow  pulled  his  hat  over  his  eyes  and  enveloped 
himself  in  a  cloud  of  smoke.  "  When  you  're  ready 
to  fold  up  your  ears  and  be  human  people  again,  just 
let  me  know,  will  you  ? "  This  from  the  midst  of 
the  smoke-cloud. 


THE   HELPERS  261 

"  Don't  sulk,  my  Achilles ;  you  shall  have  your 
Briseis,  —  if  you  can  get  her,"  laughed  Lansdale. 
"  Miss  Van  Vetter  has  n't  made  a  confidant  of  me, 
but  I  '11  tell  you  a  lot  of  encouraging  little  fibs,  if 
that  will  help  you." 

Bartrow  fanned  an  opening  in  the  tobacco-nimbus. 
"  What  do  you  think  about  it  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  shoidd  fhid  out  for  myseK,  if  I  were 
you,"  said  Lansdale,  with  becoming  gravity. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  would." 

"Why?" 

»  Miss  Van  Vetter  is  rich." 

"  And  Mr.  Richard  Bartrow  is  only  potentially 
so.  That  is  a  most  excellent  reason,  but  I  should  n't 
let  it  overweigh  common  sense.  From  what  Miss 
Elliott  has  said  I  infer  that  her  cousin's  fortune  is 
not  large  enough  to  overawe  the  owner  of  a  promis- 
ing mine." 

Bartrow's  chair  righted  itself  with  a  crash. 

"  That 's  the  devil  of  it,  Lansdale ;  that 's  just 
what  scares  me  out.  I  've  been  pecking  away  in  the 
Myriad  for  a  year  and  a  half  now,  and  we  're  in 
something  over  four  hundred  feet  —  in  rock,  not 
ore.  If  we  don't  strike  pay  in  the  immediate  hence 
I  'm  a  ruined  community.  I  've  borrowed  right  and 
left,  and  piled  up  debt  enough  to  keep  me  in  a  cold 
sweat  for  the  next  ten  years.  That 's  the  chilly 
fact,  and  I  leave  it  to  you  if  I  had  n't  better  take 
the  night  train  and  skip  out  for  Topeka  Mountain 
without  going  near  Steve  Elliott's." 

The  red-badges  were  passing  again,  and  Lansdale 


'J62  THE   HELPERS 

took  time  to  consider  it.  The  appeal  threw  a  new 
side-light  on  the  character  of  the  young  miner,  and 
Lansdale  made  mental  apologies  for  having  mis- 
judged him.  When  he  replied  it  was  out  of  the 
heart  of  sincerity. 

"  It 's  a  hard  thing  to  say,  but  if  you  have  stated 
the  case  impartially,  I  don't  know  but  you  would 
better  do  just  that,  Dick.  From  what  I  have  seen 
of  Miss  Van  Vetter,  I  should  hazard  a  guess  that 
the  success  or  failure  of  the  Little  Myriad  would  n't 
move  her  a  hair's-breadth,  but  that  is  n't  what  you 
have  to  consider." 

"  No."  Bartrow  said  it  from  the  teeth  outward, 
looking  at  his  watch.  "  It 's  tough,  but  I  guess 
you  're  right.  I  can  just  about  make  it  if  I  get  a 
quick  move.  Will  you  go  down  to  the  train  with 
me?" 

Lansdale  assented,  and  they  walked  the  few 
squares  to  the  Union  Depot  in  silence.  The  narrow- 
gauge  train  was  coupled  and  ready  to  leave,  and 
Bartrow  tossed  his  handbag  to  the  porter  of  the 
sleeping-car. 

"  You  're  a  cold-blooded  beggar,  do  you  know 
it?"  he  said,  turning  upon  Lansdale  with  as  near 
an  approach  to  petulance  as  liis  invmcible  good- 
nature would  sanction.  "  Here  I  've  lost  a  whole 
day  and  ridden  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  just  to  get 
a  sight  of  her,  and  now  you  won't  let  me  have  it." 

Lansdale  laughed  and  promptly  evaded  the  re- 
sponsibility. "  Don't  lay  it  on  my  shoulders ;  I 
have  sins  enough  of  my  own  to  answer  for.     It 's  a 


THE   HELPERS  263 

little  hard,  as  you  say,  but  it  is  your  own  sugges- 
tion." 

"  Is  it  ?  I  don't  know  about  that.  It  has  been 
with  me  for  a  good  while,  but  it  never  knocked  me 
quite  out  vmtil  I  began  to  wonder  what  you  'd  do  in 
my  place.  That  settled  it.  And  you  're  not  out  of 
it  by  a  large  majority.  What  are  you  going  to  tell 
them  up  at  Elliott's  ?  —  about  me,  I  mean." 

"  Why  should  I  tell  them  anything?  " 

"  Because  you  can't  help  yourself.  Elliott  knows 
I  'm  in  town,  —  knows  we  were  going  to  eat  together. 
I  met  liim  on  the  way  up  to  dinner." 

"  Oh,  I  '11  tell  them  anything  you  say," 

"  Thanks.  Fix  it  up  to  suit  yourself,  —  wired  to 
come  back  on  fu-st  train,  or  something  of  that  sort. 
Anything  '11  do  ;  anything  but  the  truth." 

Lansdale's  smile  was  inscrutable.  He  was  think- 
ing how  impossible  it  would  be  for  the  most  accom- 
plished dissembler  to  tell  aught  but  the  truth  with 
Constance  Elliott's  cahn  gi'ay  eyes  upon  him. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  shall  make  a  mess  of  it." 

"  If  you  do,  I  '11  come  back  and  murder  you.  It 's 
bad  enough  as  it  is.  I  've  got  a  few  days  to  go  on, 
and  I  don't  want  them  to  know  that  the  jig  is 
definitely  up  until  it  can't  be  helped." 

"  Then  you  'd  better  write  a  note  and  do  your 
own  lying,"  said  Lansdale.  "  I  can  spin  fetching 
little  fictions  on  paper  and  sign  my  name  to  them, 
but  I  'm  no  good  at  the  other  kind." 

The  engine-bell  clanged,  putting  the  alternative 
out  of  the  question. 


264  THE   HELPERS 

"  That  lets  me  out,"  Bartrovv  said.  "  You  go 
up  there  and  square  it  right  for  me  ;  savez  ?  And 
say,  Lansdiile,  old  man;  don't  work  yourself  too 
hard.  In  spite  of  the  lamb-ranch,  you  look  thinner 
than  usual,  and  that 's  needless.     Good-by." 

Bartrow  wrung  his  friend's  hand  from  the  steps 
of  the  Pullman,  and  Lansdale  laughed  quite  cheer- 
fully. 

"  Don't  you  waste  any  sympathy  on  me,"  he  said. 
"  I  'm  going  to  disappoint  you  all  and  get  well. 
Good-night ;  and  success  to  the  Little  Myriad." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

Lansdale  stood  watching  the  two  red  eyes  on 
the  rear  platform  of  the  sleeping-car  until  the  curve 
on  the  farther  side  of  the  viaduct  blotted  them  out ; 
after  which  he  fell  in  with  the  tide  of  humanity 
ebbing  cityward  through  the  great  arch  of  the  sta- 
tion, and  set  out  to  do  Bartrow's  errand  at  the 
house  in  Colfax  Avenue. 

On  the  way  he  found  time  to  admire  Bartrow's 
manliness.  The  little  deed  of  self-effacement  pro- 
mised a  much  keener  sense  of  the  eternal  fitness  of 
things  than  he  had  expected  to  come  upon,  in  the 
young  miner,  or  in  any  son  of  the  untempered  wil- 
derness. Not  that  the  wilderness  was  more  mer- 
cenary than  the  less  strenuous  world  of  an  older 
civilization  —  rather  the  contrary ;  but  if  it  gave 
generously  it  was  also  prone  to  take  freely.  Lans- 
dale  wrought  out  the  antithesis  as  a  small  concession 
to  his  own  point  of  view,  and  was  glad  to  set  Bar- 
trow's self-abnegation  over  against  it.  Assuredly 
he  would  do  what  a  friendly  man  might  toward 
making  good  the  excuses  of  the  magnanimous  one. 

It  was  Miss  Van  Vetter  who  met  him  at  the  door, 
and  he  thought  he  surprised  a  shadow  of  disappoint- 
ment in  her  eyes  when  she  welcomed  him.     But  it 


266  THE   HELPERS 

was  Constance  who  said,  "  Come  in,  Mr.  Lansdale. 
Where  is  Dick  ?  " 

She  was  holding  the  portiere  aside  for  him,  and 
he  made  sure  of  his  ingress  before  replying.  Being 
of  two  minds  whether  to  deny  all  previous  knowledge 
of  such  a  jierson  as  Richard  Bartrow,  or  to  commit 
himself  recldessly  to  the  hazards  of  equivocal  ex- 
planations, he  steered  a  middle  course. 

"  Am  I  my  brother's  keeper  ? "  he  demanded, 
dropping  into  the  easy-chair  which  had  come  to  be 
called  his  by  right  of  frequent  occupancy. 

"  Oh,  I  hope  you  have  n't  muixlered  him !  "  said 
Connie,  with  a  show  of  trepidation.  "  That 's  a 
terribly  suggestive  quotation." 

"  So  it  is.  But  are  not  my  hands  clean  ?  "  He 
held  them  up  for  inspection.  "  How  are  you  both 
tliis  evening  ?  " 

Connie  eyes  danced.  "  Mr.  Lansdale,  do  you 
happen  to  know  anything  about  the  habits  of  the 
ostrich  ?  " 

Lansdale  acknowledged  defeat,  extending  his 
hands  in  mock  desperation.  "  Put  the  thumbikins 
on  if  you  must,"  he  said,  "  but  don't  screw  them 
down  too  hard.  I  could  n't  tell  anything  but  the 
truth  if  I  should  try." 

"  What  have  you  done  with  Dick  ?  " 

"  I  have  murdered  him,  as  you  suggested,  and  put 
his  remains  in  a  trunk  and  shipped  them  East." 

Miss  Van  Vetter  looked  horrified,  but  whether  at 
his  flippancy  or  at  the  hideous  possibility,  Lansdale 
could  not  determine. 


THE  HELPERS  267 

"But,  really,"  Connie  persisted,  with  a  look  in 
her  eyes  which  would  have  exorcised  any  demon  of 
brazenness  ;  "  you  dined  with  him,  you  know," 

"  So  I  did ;  but  he  had  to  go  back  to  his  mine  on 
the  night  train.  I  saw  him  off,  and  he  made  me 
promise  to  come  here  and  —  and  "  — 

"  Square  it  ?  "  Connie  suggested. 

"  That  is  precisely  the  word,  —  his  word.  And 
you  will  both  bear  me  witness  that  I  have  done  it, 
won't  you  ?  " 

Miss  Van  Vetter  was  cutting  the  leaves  of  a 
magazine,  and  she  looked  up  to  say  :  "  That  is  one 
of  the  explanations  which  does  n't  explain,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

Lansdale  collapsed  in  the  depths  of  the  chair. 
"  '  I  'm  a  poor  unfort'net  as  don't  know  nothink,'  " 
he  quoted.  "  Tell  me  what  you  'd  like  to  have  me 
say  and  I  '11  say  it." 

"Why  did  Mr.  Bartrow  have  to  go  back  so  un- 
expectedly ?  "  asked  Myra.  "  He  told  Uncle  Stephen 
he  would  be  in  Denver  two  or  three  days." 

Lansdale  was  not  imder  bonds  to  keep  the  truth- 
ful peace  at  the  behest  of  any  eyes  save  those  of 
Constance  Elliott ;  wherefore  he  drew  upon  his 
imagination  promptly,  and,  as  it  chanced,  rather  un- 
fortunately. 

"  He  had  a  telegram  from  his  foreman  about  a  — 
a  strike,  I  think  he  called  it." 

"  A  strike  in  the  Little  Myriad !  "  This  from 
both  of  the  young  women  in  chorus.  Then  Connie 
thankfully  :  "  Oh,  I  'm  so  glad !  "  and  Myra  vin- 
dictively :  "  I  hope  he  '11  never  give  in  to  them !  " 


268  THE  HELPERS 

Laiisdale  collapsed  again.  "  What  have  I  done !  " 
he  exclaimed. 

Constance  set  her  cousin  right,  or  tried  to. 

"  It  is  n't  a  strike  of  the  men  ;  it 's  pay-ore  — 
is  n't  it,  Mr.  Lansdale?  " 

"  Now  how  should  I  know?"  protested  the  ama^ 
teur  apologist.  "  A  strike  is  a  strike,  isn't  it?  But 
I  don't  believe  it  was  the  good  kind.  He  was  n't  at 
all  enthusiastic  about  it." 

"  That  will  do,"  said  Connie.  "  Poor  Dick !  " 
And  Miss  Van  Vetter,  who  was  not  of  the  stony- 
hearted, rose  and  went  to  the  piano  that  she  might 
not  advertise  her  emotion. 

Lansdale  picked  himself  up  out  of  the  ruins  of  his 
attempt  to  do  Bartrow  a  good  turn,  and  hoped  the 
worst  was  over.  It  was  for  the  time ;  but  later  in 
the  evening,  when  Myra  had  gone  to  the  library  for 
a  book  they  had  been  talking  about,  Connie  re- 
turned to  the  unfinished  inquisition. 

"You  know  more  than  you  have  told  us  about 
Dick's  trouble,"  she  said  gravely.  "  Is  it  very 
serious  ?  " 

"  Yes,  rather."  Lansdale  made  a  sudden  resolve 
to  cleave  to  the  facts  in  the  case,  telling  as  few  of 
them  as  he  might. 

"  It  was  n't  a  strike  at  all,  was  it  ?  " 

"  No  ;  that  was  a  little  fig-ure  of  speech.  It  is 
rather  the  lack  of  a  strike  —  of  the  kind  you  meant." 

"  Poor  boy !  I  don't  wonder  that  it  made  him 
want  to  run  away.  He  has  worked  so  hard  and  so 
long,  and  his  faith  in  the  Little  Myriad  has  been 
unbounded.     What  will  he  do  ?  " 


THE   HELPERS  269 

"I  don't  know  that.  In  fact,  I  think  he  is  not 
quite  at  the  brink  of  things  yet.  But  he  is  afraid 
it  is  coming  to  that." 

"  How  did  he  talk  ?  Is  he  very  much  discour- 
aged ?  But  of  course  he  is  n't ;  nothmg  discourages 
him." 

Lansdale  was  looking  into  the  compelling  eyes 
and  he  forgot  his  role,  —  forgot  that  he  had  been 
giving  Constance  to  understand  that  the  prospective 
failure  of  the  mine  was  the  only  cloud  in  Bartrow's 
sky. 

"  I  "m  sorry  I  can't  confirm  that."  He  spoke 
hurriedly,  hearing  the  rustle  of  Miss  Van  Vetter's 
skirts  in  the  hall.  "  He  decided  rather  suddenly, — 
to  go  back,  you  know.  He  intended  coming  here 
with  me  this  evening.  I  don't  think  he  had  ever 
considered  all  the  possibilities  and  consequences ; 
and  we  were  talking  it  over.  Then  he  decided  not 
to  come.     He  is  the  soul  of  honor." 

Constance  nodded  intelligence,  and  made  the 
proper  diversion  when  her  cousin  came  in  with 
the  book.  But  Miss  Van  Vetter  had  overheard  the 
final  sentence,  and  she  put  it  away  for  future  refer- 
ence. 

Lansdale  said  good-night  a  little  later,  and  they 
both  went  to  the  door  with  him.  When  he  was 
gone  Myra  drew  Connie  into  the  library  and  made 
her  sit  down  where  the  light  from  the  shaded  chan- 
delier fell  fidl  upon  her. 

"  Connie,  dear,"  she  began,  fixing  her  cousin  with 
an  inquisitorial  eye,  "  who  is  '  the  soul  of  honor '  ?  " 


270  THE   HELPERS 

"  It  is  n't  nice  to  overhear  things,"  said  Connie 
pertly. 

"I  miffht  retort  that  it  isn't  nice  to  have  con- 
fidences  with  a  gentleman  the  moment  your  cousin's 
back  is  turned,  but  I  sha'n't.  Will  you  tell  me 
what  I  want  to  know  ?  " 

"  We  were  talking  about  Dick." 

Myra's  hands  were  clasped  over  her  knee,  and 
one  daintily  shod  foot  was  tapping  a  tattoo  on  the 
rug.     "  Was  it  anything  that  I  ought  not  to  know  ?  " 

Connie's  pertness  vanished,  and  the  steadfast  gray 
eyes  brightened  with  quick  upweUings  of  sympathy. 
"  No,  dear ;  it  will  doubtless  be  in  everybody's 
mouth  before  many  days.  You  remember  what  I 
told  you  once  about  Dick's  prospects?  —  that  day 
we  were  on  top  of  El  Reposo  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  I  think  the  Little  Myriad  is  n't  going  to 
keep  its  promise  ;  Dick  thinks  so." 

Myra  sat  quietly  under  it  for  a  little  while,  and 
then  got  up  to  go  to  the  window.  When  she  spoke 
she  did  not  turn  her  head. 

"  He  will  be  ruined,  you  said.  What  will  you 
do,  Connie?  " 

"I?  What  can  I  do?  Poppa  would  lend  him 
more  money,  but  he  would  n't  take  it,  —  not  from 
us." 

Silence  while  the  bronze-figured  clock  on  the  man- 
tel measured  a  full  minute.     Then  :  — 

"  There  is  one  way  you  can  make  him  take  it." 

"How?" 


THE   HELPERS  271 

Myra  gave  a  quick  glance  over  her  shoulder,  as  if 
to  make  sure  that  her  cousin  was  still  sitting  under 
the  chandelier. 

"  He  believes  —  and  so  does  your  father  —  that 
it  is  only  a  question  of  time  and  more  money.  He 
could  n't  refuse  to  take  his  wife's  money." 

Miss  Van  Vetter  heard  a  little  gas]),  which,  to 
her  strained  sense,  seemed  to  be  more  than  haK  a 
sob,  and  the  arc-light  swinging  from  its  wire  across 
the  avenue  was  blurred  for  her.  Then  Connie's 
voice,  soft  and  low-pitched  in  the  silence  of  the  book- 
lined  room,  came  to  her  as  from  a  great  distance. 

"  You  are  quite  mistaken,  Myra,  dear  ;  mistaken 
and  —  and  very  blind.  Dick  is  my  good  brother,  — 
the  only  one  I  ever  had  ;  not  my  father's  son,  but 
yet  my  brother.  There  has  been  no  thought  of 
anytliing  else  between  us.     Besides  "  — 

Myra  heard  light  footfalls  and  the  rustle  of 
di'apery,  and  stole  another  quick  glance  over  her 
shoulder.  The  big  pivot-chair  under  the  chandelier 
was  empty.  The  door  into  the  hall  was  ajar,  and 
Connie's  face,  piquant  with  suppressed  rapture,  was 
framed  in  the  aperture. 

"  Besides,  you  good,  dense,  impracticable  cuzzy, 
dear,  —  are  you  listening  ?  —  Dick  is  head  over  ears 
in  love  with  —  you." 

The  door  slammed  softly  on  the  final  word,  and 
there  was  a  quick  patter  of  flying  feet  on  the  stairs. 
Myra  kept  her  place  at  the  wmdow ;  but  when  the 
arc-light  had  parted  with  its  blurring  aureole  she 
drew  the  big  pivot-chair  to  the  desk  and  sat  down  to 
write. 


272  THE   HELPERS 

What  she  had  in  mind  seemed  not  to  say  itself 
readily,  and  there  was  quite  a  pyramid  of  waste 
paper  in  the  basket  before  she  had  finished  her  two 
letters.  She  left  them  on  the  hall  table  when  she 
went  np  to  her  room,  and  Connie  foimd  them  in  the 
morn  in  <^  on  her  way  to  the  breakfast-room  to  pour 
her  father's  coffee. 

"  I  wish  I  might  read  them,"  she  said,  with  the 
mischievous  light  dancing  in  her  eyes.  "  It 's  de- 
liciously  suspicious  ;  a  letter  to  Dick,  and  one  to  her 
man  of  business,  all  in  a  breath,  and  right  on  the 
heels  of  my  little  bomb-shell.  If  she  ever  tries  to 
discipline  me  again,  —  well,  she  'd  better  not,  that 's 
aU." 


CHAPTER  XXV 

Two  clays  after  his  return  to  the  mine  on  Topeka 
Mountain,  Bartrow  received  a  letter.  It  came  up 
from  Alta  Vista  by  the  hands  of  one  of  the  work- 
men who  had  been  down  to  the  camp  blacksmith 
shop  with  the  day's  gathering  of  dulled  tools,  and 
was  considerably  the  worse  for  handling  when  it 
reached  its  destination.  Connie's  monogram  was  on 
the  flap  of  the  envelope,  but  the  address  was  not  in 
Connie's  handwriting.  So  much  Bartrow  remarked 
while  he  was  questioning  the  tool-carrier. 

"  Took  you  a  good  while,  did  n't  it  ?  Was  Pat 
sober  to-day  ?  " 

"  Naw  ;  swimmin'  full,  same  as  usual." 

"  Spoil  anything  ?  " 

"  Burnt  up  a  drill  'r  two,  spite  of  all  I  could  do. 
Laid  off  to  lick  me  when  he  got  through,  but  I  lit 
out  'fore  he  got  round  to  it." 

"  Did,  eh  ?  It 's  a  pity  ;  he  's  a  good  blacksmith 
if  he  'd  only  let  whiskey  alone.  Try  hun  in  the 
morning  next  time,  and  maybe  you  '11  catch  him 
sober." 

"  Don't  make  any  dif 'rence  'bout  the  time  o'  day 
with  him.     He  's  full  all  the  time,  he  is." 

Bartrow's  curiosity  was  beginning  to  bestir  itself, 
but  he  put  it  mider  foot  till  he  had  chmbed  to  the 


274  THE   HELPERS 

three-roomed  cabin  on  the  bench  above  the  tunnel- 
opening.  Wim  Ling  was  hiying  the  table  for  sup- 
per, and  the  master  of  the  mine  sat  down  on  the 
porch  to  read  his  letter.  It  was  from  Miss  Van 
Vetter ;  and  the  glow  on  Barti-ow's  sunburned  face 
as  he  read  it  was  not  altogether  the  ruddy  reflection 
from  the  piled-up  masses  of  sunset  crknsou  in  the 
western  sky. 

"  Dear  Mr.  Bartrow,"  she  wrote  :  "  Mr.  Lans- 
dale  has  just  been  here,  and  we  made  him  tell  us 
about  your  trouble,  though  he  tried  very  hard  not 
to.  From  which  we  infer  that  you  did  n't  want  us 
to  liiiow,  —  and  that  was  wi-ong.  If  one  cannot  go 
to  one's  friends  at  such  times,  it  is  surely  a  very 
thanldess  world. 

"  Constance  told  me  some  time  ago  that  you 
might  not  be  able  to  go  on  with  the  Little  Myriad 
without  the  investment  of  more  capital,  and  I  have 
written  about  it  to  a  friend  of  mine  in  the  East 
who  has  money  to  invest.  You  may  call  it  a  most 
unwarrantable  impertinence  if  you  jalease,  but  I  'm 
not  going  to  apologize  for  it,  —  not  here.  If  you 
woidd  really  like  to  humble  me,  I  '11  give  you  plenary 
indidgence  when  you  come  to  see  us. 

"  I  inclose  my  friend's  Philadelphia  address,  and 
I  may  say  with  confidence  that  I  am  quite  sure  he 
will  help  you  if  you  will  write  him. 

"  We  have  abundant  faith  in  you  and  in  the 
Little  Myriad.  Don't  think  of  giving  ujj,  and  please 
don't  evade  us  when  you  are  next  in  Denver." 

Bartrow  absorbed  it  by  littles,  and  sat  fingering 


THE   HELPERS  275 

the  slip  of  paper  with  the  Philadelphia  address  on 
it,  quite  unheedfiil  of  Wun  Ling's  thrice-repeated 
announcement  that  supper  was  ready.  It  was  his 
first  letter  from  her,  and  the  fact  was  easily  subver- 
sive of  presence  of  mmd.  Not  until  the  lilt  of  it 
had  a  little  outworn  itself  could  he  bring  himseK 
down  to  any  fair-minded  consideration  of  the  offer 
of  help.  But  when  it  finally  came  to  that,  he  put 
the  letter  in  his  pocket  and  went  in  to  supper, 
smiling  ineffably  and  shaking  his  head  as  one  who 
has  set  his  face  fliutwise  against  temptation. 

An  hour  later,  however,  when  he  was  smoking 
his  pipe  on  the  porch  step,  the  temptation  beset  him 
afresh.  His  faith  in  the  ultimate  success  of  the 
mine  had  never  wavered.  It  was  unshaken  even 
now,  when  he  was  at  the  end  of  his  resources,  and 
a  thing  had  happened  which  threatened  to  demand  a 
costly  change  in  the  method  of  exploiting  the  lode. 
But  to  be  confident  for  himself  and  for  those  who, 
knowing  the  hazard,  had  helped  him  hitherto,  was 
one  tiling  ;  and  to  take  a  stranger's  money  was  quite 
another.  And  when  the  stranger  chanced  to  be  the 
friend  of  the  woman  he  loved,  a  person  who  would 
invest  in  the  Little  Mjrriad  solely  on  the  ground 
of  Miss  Van  Vetter's  recommendation,  the  differ- 
ence magnified  itself  until  it  took  the  shape  of  a  pro- 
hibition. 

The  light  had  faded  out  of  the  western  sky,  and 
the  peaks  of  the  main  range  stood  out  in  shadowy 
relief  against  the  star-dusted  background.  The 
homely  noises  in  Wim  Ling's  sanctum  had  ceased, 


276  THE    HELPERS 

and  sik'iice  begirt  the  great  mountain.  Bartrow 
tossed  the  extinct  pipe  through  an  open  window,  and 
began  to  pace  the  length  of  the  slab-floored  porch. 
It  was  not  in  him  to  give  up  without  another 
struggle  ;  a  final  struggle,  he  called  it,  though  none 
knew  better  that  there  is  no  final  struggle  for  a 
strong  man  save  that  which  crowns  perseverance 
with  the  chaplct  of  fruition.  The  temptation  to 
grasp  the  hand  held  out  to  him  was  very  subtle.  If 
Miss  Van  Vetter  could  have  been  eliminated  —  if 
only  the  proposal  had  come  dii'ect  from  the  Pliila- 
delphia  capitalist,  instead  of  through  her. 

The  sound  of  footsteps  on  the  gravel  at  the  tun- 
nel's mouth  broke  into  his  reverie,  and  the  figure  of 
a  man  loomed  dimly  in  the  darkness  at  the  foot  of 
the  path  leading  up  to  the  cabin.  It  was  McMur- 
trie,  the  minmg  engineer  in  charge  of  the  Big 
Bonanza  at  Alta  Vista.  Bartrow  called  down  to 
him. 

"  Is  that  you,  Mac  ?  Don't  come  up ;  I  "11  be 
with  you  in  a  second." 

The  engineer  sat  do^^^l  on  a  tool-box  and  waited. 

"  I  'm  a  little  late,"  he  said,  when  Bartrow  came 
down  the  path.  "  It 's  pay-day  at  the  Bonanza. 
Get  a  lamp  and  let 's  go  in  and  have  a  look  at  your 
new  grief." 

"  You  did  n't  need  to  tramp  up  here  in  the  dark," 
Bartrow  rejoined,  feeling  in  a  niche  in  the  timbering 
for  a  miner's  lamp.  "  I  'd  given  you  up  for  to- 
night." 

"  Oh,  I  said  I  'd  come,  and  I  'm  here.     I  know 


THE   HELPERS  277 

how  it  feels  to  be  on  the  ragged  edge,  —  been  there 
myself.  Is  that  the  best  lamp  you  could  find?  It 
is  n't  much  better  than  a  white  bean.  Pick  it  up  a 
little  higher  so  I  can  see  the  wet  spots.  It 's  too 
chilly  to  go  in  swimming  to-night." 

They  were  picking  their  way  through  the  damp 
tunnel,  Bartrow  ahead  with  the  lamp  held  high. 
The  "  new  grief "  was  an  apparent  change  in  the 
direction  of  the  ore-bearing  crevice  from  its  slight 
inclination  upward  to  a  sharp  pitch  downward ;  and 
Bartrow  had  asked  McMurtrie  to  come  up  and  look 
at  it. 

In  the  heading  the  engineer  took  the  lamp  and 
made  a  careful  examination  of  the  rock  face  of  the 
cutting,  tracing  the  outline  of  the  vein  with  the 
flame  of  the  lamp,  and  picking  off  bits  of  the  shat- 
tered rock  to  determine  the  lines  of  cleavage.  Bar- 
trow stood  aside  and  waited  for  the  verdict ;  waited 
with  a  tense  thrill  of  nervousness  which  was  quite 
new  to  him ;  and  the  monotonous  drip-drip  of  the 
water  percolating  through  the  tunnel  roof  magnified 
itself  into  a  din  like  the  ringing  of  hammers  upon 
an  anvil. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  say  ?  "  he  queried,  when  the 
engineer  made  an  end  and  began  to  fill  his  pipe. 

"  You  're  in  for  it,  Dick,  —  here,  hold  this  lamp  a 
minute,  will  you  ?  It 's  a  pretty  weU-defined  dip  in 
the  formation,  and  I  'm  afraid  it  has  come  to  stay. 
That  means  an  incline." 

The  echo  took  up  Bartrow's  ironical  laugh  and 
gave  it  back  in  mocking  reiteration. 


278  THE   HELPERS 

"  Yes ;  an  incline  at  the  end  of  a  four-liimdred- 
and-forty-foot  tunnel,  and  a  steam  hoist,  and  a 
pumi)iug-  outfit,  and  a  few  other  little  knickknacks. 
Say  a  couple  of  thousand  dollars  or  so  before  I  can 
turn  a  wheel." 

McMurtrie  bent  to  light  his  pipe  at  the  flame  of 
the  lamj).  "  That 's  about  the  size  of  it.  Hold  that 
lamp  still,  can't  you  ?  " 

"  Hold  it  yoiu'self,"  retorted  Bartrow ;  and  he 
took  a  turn  in  the  darkness  to  steady  his  nerves. 
When  he  stumbled  back  into  the  dim  nimbus  of 
lamplight  he  had  fought  and  won  his  small  battle. 

"  Don't  lay  it  up  against  me,  Mac,"  he  said,  in 
blunt  contrition.  "  It  knocked  me  out  for  a  minute. 
You  know  I  've  been  backing  my  luck  here  for  all 
I  'm  worth." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that.     What  will  you  do  now  ?  " 

"  Quit ;  come  off  the  perch ;  shut  up  shop  and 
pull  down  the  blinds.     It 's  all  there  is  to  do." 

"  And  give  it  up  ?  " 

"  And  give  it  up.  Bank 's  broke  ;  or  at  least  it 
will  be  when  I  've  paid  the  men  another  time  or 
two." 

McMurtrie  had  Scotch  blood  in  his  veins,  and 
was  cannily  chary  of  offering  unasked  advice. 
None  the  less,  he  did  it. 

"  I  'd  borrow  a  little  more  nerve  and  go  on,  if  it 
were  mine." 

"  So  would  I  if  I  could." 

"Can't  you?" 

Bartrow  said   "  no, "   changed  it  to  "  yes,"  and 


THE   HELPERS  279 

then  qualified  the  assent  until  it,  too,  became  a  ne- 
gation. 

"  It 's  a  pity,"  was  the  engineer's  comment.  "  I 
believe  another  hundred  feet  would  let  you  in  for  a 
decently  good  thing." 

"  So  do  I.  But  it  might  as  well  be  a  thousand. 
I  know  when  I  'm  downed." 

McMurtrie  scoffed  openly  at  that,  taking  his  pipe 
from  his  mouth  to  say  :  "  That 's  the  one  thing  you 
don't  know.  You  '11  chew  on  it  a  while  and  go  to 
Denver ;  and  in  a  day  or  so  your  men  will  get  orders 
to  go  on.  I  've  seen  you  downed  before.  Why 
don't  you  go  back  East  and  marry  a  rich  girl? 
That 's  the  way  to  develop  a  mine." 

It  was  a  random  shot,  but  it  went  so  near  the 
mark  that  Bartrow  winced,  and  was  thankful  that 
the  flaring  miner's  lamp  was  not  an  arc-hght.  And 
his  rejoinder  ignored  the  matrimonial  suggestion. 

"  You  're  off  wrong  this  time,  Mac.  I  wish  you 
did  n't  have  to  be.  But  it 's  no  use.  I  'm  in  debt 
till  I  can't  see  out  over  the  top  of  it,  and  I  could  n't 
raise  another  thousand  on  the  Myriad  if  I  should 
try,  —  that  is,  not  in  Colorado.  If  I  go  to  Denver 
it  '11  be  to  turn  over  my  collateral  and  let  everybody 
down  as  easy  as  I  can." 

"  Then  don't  go  yet  a  while." 

Bartrow  took  the  lamp  and  led  the  way  out  of 
the  tunnel. 

"  I  did  mean  to  stand  it  off  to  the  last  minute," 
he  said,  when  they  were  once  more  under  the  stars, 
"  but  I  don't  know  as  it 's  worth  while  now.     Will 


280  THE   HELPERS 

you  come  up  to  the  shack  and  smoke  a  feAv  lines? 
No  ?  Then  wait  till  I  get  my  coat  and  I  "11  walk 
down  to  camp  with  you.  I  want  to  do  a  little  wiring 
before  I  turn  in." 

They  parted  at  the  railway  station  above  the 
camp  at  the  foot  of  Bonanza  Mountain,  and  Bar- 
trow  went  in  to  send  his  message.  In  the  hour  of 
defeat  he  yearned,  manlike,  for  sympathy ;  and  it 
was  to  Connie  that  his  cry  went  out.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  earnestness  of  it,  the  appeal  was  consistently 
characteristic  in  its  wording. 

"  I  'm  hunting  sympathy.  Can  you  give  me  a 
lonesome  hour  or  two  if  I  come  down  ?  Answer 
while  I  wait." 

He  asked  the  night  operator  to  rush  it,  and  sat 
down  with  his  feet  on  the  window-sill  to  smoke  out 
the  interval.  A  half-hour  later,  when  the  operator 
was  jogging  Denver  for  a  reply  to  his  "  rush,"  the 
din  of  an  affray  floated  up  to  the  open  window  from 
the  camp  in  the  gulch.  The  operator  came  to  the 
window  and  looked  down  upon  the  twinkling  lights 
of  the  town. 

"  That 's  the  blacksmith  again,"  he  said.  "  He  's 
been  on  a  steady  bat  for  two  weeks,  and  the  camp 
is  n't  big  enough  to  hold  him." 

"  He  '11  kill  himself,  if  he  don't  mind,"  Bartrow 
prophesied.  "  He  's  raw  yet,  and  has  n't  found  out 
that  a  man  can't  stand  the  drink  up  here  that  he 
coidd  in  the  valley." 

"  No.  Doc  said  he  had  a  touch  of  the  jimmies  last 
night.     He  yelled  for  his  daughter  till  they  heard 


THE   HELPERS  281 

him  up  at  the  shaft-house  of  the  Bonanza.  Mc- 
Murtrie  said "  —  But  what  the  engineer's  com- 
mentary had  been  was  lost  to  Bartrow,  since  the 
clicking  sounder  was  snipping  out  the  reply  to  the 
"  rush  "  message. 

The  operator  wi-ote  it  out  and  handed  it  to  Bar- 
trow. The  answer  was  as  characteristic  as  the 
appeal. 

"  Two  of  the  three  of  us  go  to  Boulder  to-morrow 
to  return  by  the  late  train.  The  other  one  is  most 
sympathetic.     Come. 

"  Connie." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

On  the  long  day-ride  from  Alta  Vista  to  Denver, 
Bartrow  dwelt  upon  Myi'a's  letter  until  the  hopeful- 
ness of  it  took  possession  of  him,  urging  him  to  re- 
consider his  determination  to  give  up  the  fight  on 
the  Little  Myriad.  That  which  seems  to  have  forti- 
fied itself  beyond  peradventure  of  doubt  in  the  night 
season  is  prone  to  open  the  door  to  dubiety  in  the 
morning ;  and  the  hope  which  McMurtrie's  verdict 
had  quenched  came  to  life  again,  setting  the  mill  of 
retrieval  agrind,  though,  apart  from  the  suggestion 
in  Myra's  letter,  there  was  little  enough  for  grist. 

From  admitting  the  hope  to  considering  ways  and 
means  was  but  a  step  in  the  march  of  returning 
confidence ;  and,  setting  aside  Myra's  proposal  as 
an  alternative  which  would  bring  victory  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  cause  in  which  the  battle  was  fought, 
he  was  moved  to  break  his  promise  to  himself  and 
to  ask  help  of  Stephen  Elliott.  This  decision  was 
not  reached  without  a  day-long  struggle,  in  which 
pride  and  generosity  fought  shoulder  to  shoulder 
against  the  apparent  necessity.  The  pioneer  had 
more  than  once  offered  to  back  the  promise  of  the 
Little  Myriad ;  but  Bartrow,  knowing  Elliott's 
weakness  in  the  matter  of  money  keeping,  had 
steadily  refused  to  open  another  door  of  risk  to  the 


THE   HELPERS  283 

old  man  who  had  fathered  him  from  boyhood,  and 
whose  major  infirmity  was  an  open-handed  willing- 
ness to  lend  to  any  borrower. 

But  the  necessity  was  most  urgent.  Bartrow  re- 
hearsed the  condoning  facts  and  set  them  over 
against  his  promise  to  liimself.  If  he  shoidd  give 
up  the  fight  the  Little  Myriad  would  be  lost,  he 
woidd  be  left  hopelessly  in  debt,  and  the  beatific 
vision,  with  Miss  Van  Vetter  for  its  central  figure, 
vanished  at  once  into  the  limbo  of  things  unreal- 
izable. Moreover,  the  investment  would  be  less 
hazardous  for  the  pioneer  than  at  any  previous  time 
in  the  history  of  the  mine.  Notwithstanding  the 
discouragements,  it  was  a  heartening  fact  that  the 
ore-bearing  vein  was  steadily  widening ;  and  the  last 
mill-run  assay,  made  a  week  before,  had  shown  a 
cheering  increase  in  value. 

Bartrow  weighed  the  pros  and  cons  for  the  twen- 
tieth time   while   the   train  was  speeding   over  the 
ultimate  mile  of  the  long  run,  and  finally  yielded  to 
the  importunate  urgings  of  the  necessity.     The  first 
step  was  to  take  Connie  into  his   confidence  ;   and 
when  the  train  reached  Denver  he  hurried  to  the 
hotel,  full  of  the  new  hope  and  eager  to  begin  the 
campaign  of  retrieval.      While  he  was  inscribing  his 
name  in  the  register  the  clerk  asked  a  question. 
"Just  come  down  from  the  range,  Mr.  Bartrow?" 
"  Yes.     Can  you  give  me  my  old  room  ?  " 
"Certainly."     The   clerk  wrote   the   number  op- 
posite  the   name.     "  What  do  they  say  up  in  the 
carbonate  camp  about  the  Lodestar  business  ?  " 


284  THE   HELPERS 

"  The  Lodestar  ?  I  don't  know.  I  have  n't  been 
in  Leadville.  I  came  down  from  the  Bonanza  dis- 
trict on  the  other  line.     Anything  broke  loose?" 

"  Have  n't  you  heard  ?  The  big  producer  is 
played  out." 

"What!" 

"  Fact ;  struck  a  '  lime  horse  '  two  weeks  ago,  and 
they  've  been  keeping  it  dark  and  unloading  the 
stock  right  and  left.     You  are  not  in  it,  I  hope  ?  " 

Bartrow  was  not,  but  he  knew  that  Elliott  was ; 
knew,  too,  that  in  any  unloading  sauve  qui  pent  the 
old  pioneer  would  most  likely  be  one  of  those  found 
dead  in  the  deserted  trenches.  Wherefore  he  sluri'ed 
his  supper  and  hastened  out  to  the  house  in  Colfax 
Avenue,  not  to  ask  help,  as  he  had  prefigured,  but 
to  ascertain  if  there  were  not  some  way  in  which  a 
broken  man  might  tender  it. 

There  was  a  light  in  the  library  and  none  in  the 
parlor ;  and  Bartrow,  being  rather  more  a  brevet 
member  of  Stephen  Elliott's  family  than  a  visitor, 
nodded  to  the  servant  who  admitted  him,  hung  up 
his  coat  and  hat,  and  walked  unannounced  into  the 
lighted  room.  When  he  discovered  that  the  library 
held  but  one  occupant,  that  the  shapely  head  bend- 
ing over  a  book  in  the  cone  of  light  beneath  the 
reading-lamp  was  not  Connie's,  he  realized  the  mag- 
nitude of  Connie's  duplicity,  and  equanimity  forsook 
him. 

Miss  Van  Vetter  shut  her  finger  in  her  book  and 
smUed  as  if  his  sudden  appearance  were  quite  a 
matter  of  course. 


THE   HELPERS  285 

"  I  hoped  you  would  come,"  she  said.  "  Have 
you  been  to  dinner  ?  " 

The  prosaic  question  might  have  enabled  a  less 
ingenuous  man  to  cover  his  discomposure  with  some 
poor  verbal  mantle  of  commonplace  or  what  not ; 
but  Bartrow  could  only  murmur  "  Good  Lord !  " 
sinking  therewith  into  the  hollow  of  the  nearest 
chair  because  his  emotion  was  too  great  to  be  borne 
standing. 

Since  she  was  not  a  party  to  Connie's  small  plot, 
Myra  was  left  to  infer  that  her  visitor  was  ill,  and 
she  rose  in  sympathetic  concern. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Bartrow !  is  anything  the  matter  ? 
Shall  I  get  you  something?  a  glass  of  wine,  or  "  — 

Bartrow  shook  his  head  and  besought  her  with 
both  hands  to  sit  down  again.  "  No,  nothing, 
thank  you ;  it 's  miles  past  that  sort  of  mending. 
Do  you  —  do  you  happen  to  know  where  your 
cousin  is  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes ;  she  has  gone  to  Boulder  with  Uncle 
Stephen." 

"I  —  I  thought  you  were  going,"  Bartrow  stam- 
mered. 

It  did  not  occur  to  Miss  Van  Vetter  to  wonder 
why  he  should  have  thought  anything  about  it. 

"  I  thought  so  myself,  up  to  the  last  moment," 
she  rejoined. 

Bartrow  leaned  forward  with  his  hands  on  his 
knees. 

"  Miss  Myra,  would  you  —  do  you  mind  telling 
me  why  you  did  n't  go  ?  "  He  said  it  with  reproach- 
ful gravity. 


286  THE   HELPERS 

Miss  Van  Vetter's  poise  was  an  inheritance  which 
had  lost  notliing  in  transmission,  but  the  unconscious 
reproach  in  his  ai)peal  overset  it.  Under  less  try- 
ing conditions  her  laugh  would  have  emancipated 
him ;  but  being  still  in  the  bonds  of  unreadiness,  he 
could  only  glower  at  her  in  a  way  which  lacked 
nothing  of  hostility  save  intention,  and  say,  "  I 
should  think  you  might  tell  me  what  you  're  laugh- 
ing at ! " 

"  Oh,  nothing  —  nothing  at  all.  Only  one  would 
think  you  were  sorry  I  did  n't  go.     Are  you  ?  " 

"  You  know  well  enough  I  'm  not."  This  time 
the  reproach  was  not  unconscious.  "  But  you  have  n't 
answered  my  question.  I  have  a  horrible  suspicion, 
and  I  want  to  know." 

"  It  was  Connie's  mistake.  I  was  to  meet  them 
at  the  station  at  half  past  four  —  I  am  sure  she  said 
half  past  four  —  and  when  I  went  down  I  found  the 
train  had  been  gone  an  hour.  Did  you  ever  hear 
of  such  a  thing?" 

Miss  Van  Vetter  did  not  know  that  the  small 
arch-plotter  had  exhausted  her  ingenuity  trying  to 
devise  some  less  primitive  means  of  accomplishing 
her  purpose;  but  Bartrow  gave  Connie  full  credit 
for  act  and  intention. 

"  She  'd  do  worse  things  than  that ;  she  would  n't 
stick  at  anything  to  carry  her  point,"  he  said 
unguardedly. 

Myra  laughed  again.  "  I  hope  you  don't  ask 
me  to  believe  that  she  did  it  purposely,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  no ;  of  course    not.      I  don't  ask  you   to 


THE  HELPERS  287 

believe  anything  —  except  that  I  'm  foolishly  glad 
you  missed  the  train,"  rejoined  the  downright  one, 
beoinninoj  to  find  himself. 

"  Are  you,  really  ?  I  was  almost  ready  to  doubt 
it." 

Bartrow  was  not  yet  fit  to  measure  swords  of 
repartee  with  any  one,  least  of  all  with  Miss  Van 
Vetter,  and  the  quicksand  of  speechlessness  engulfed 
him.  His  helplessness  was  so  palpable  that  it  pre- 
sently became  infectious,  and  Myra  was  dismayed  to 
find  herself  growing  sympathetically  self-conscious. 
Her  letter  lay  between  their  last  meeting  and  this, 
and  she  began  to  wonder  if  that  were  the  barrier. 
When  the  silence  became  portentous,  Bartrow  gath- 
ered himself  for  another  dash  toward  enlargement. 
It  was  that  or  asphyxia.  The  very  air  of  the  room 
was  heavy  with  the  narcosis  of  embarrassment. 

"  Your  letter  came  yesterday,"  he  began  abruptly. 

"  Did  it  ?  And  you  have  come  to  tell  me  to  —  to 
tell  me  to  mind  my  own  business?  as  I  said  you 
might  ?" 

"  No,  indeed,  I  have  n't.  But  I  can't  do  it,  all 
the  same  —  drag  your  friend  in  on  the  Myriad." 

"  Was  Mr.  Lansdale  mistaken  ?  Don't  you  need 
more  capital  to  go  on  with  ?  " 

"  Need  it?  — well,  yes  ;  rather.  But  I  can't  take 
your  Mr.  Grimsby's  money." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because"  — the  low-pitched  hollow  of  the  big 
lounging-chair  seemed  to  put  him  at  a  disadvantage, 
and  he  struggled  up  out  of  it  to  tramp  back  and 


288  THE  HELPERS 

forth  before  her  —  "  well,  in  the  first  place,  because 
he  IK  your  friend ;  and  if  he  was  n't,  I  have  no 
security  to  offer  him  —  collateral,  I  suppose  he  'd 
call  it." 

"He  is  not  exactly  my  friend,  within  your  mean- 
ing of  the  word ;  and  he  will  not  ask  you  to  secure 
him." 

He  stopped  and  looked  down  upon  her.  She  was 
shading  her  eyes  from  the  sheen  of  the  reading- 
lamp  and  turning  the  leaves  of  the  book. 

"  What  does  he  know  about  the  Little  Myriad  ? 
anything  more  than  you  have  told  him?" 
."No." 

*'  And  yet  you  say  he  is  willing  to  put  up  money 
on  it?" 

"  He  is  ready  to  help  you  — yes." 

Bartrow's  brows  went  together  in  a  frown  of  per- 
plexity. "  As  long  as  I  'm  not  going  to  let  him,  I 
suppose  I  have  n't  any  right  to  ask  questions,  but "  — 

She  put  the  book  on  the  table  and  looked  up  at 
him  with  sometliing  of  Connie's  steadfastness  m  her 
eyes. 

"  Perhaps  I  was  foolish  to  try  to  make  even  such 
a  small  mystery  of  it ;  but  I  thought  —  I  was  so 
anxious  to  —  to  put  it  in  such  a  way  as  to  "  — 

The  words  would  not  discover  themselves ;  and 
Bartrow,  to  whom  the  mystery  was  now  no  mystery, 
helped  her  over  the  obstruction. 

"  As  to  make  it  easy  for  me.  I  think  I  catch  on, 
after  so  long  a  time.  Mr.  Grimsby  is  your  business 
manager,  is  n't  he  ?  " 


THE   HELPERS  289 

"  My  solicitor  ;  yes." 

"  That 's  what  I  meant.  And  it  was  going  to  be 
your  own  money  ?  " 

"Yes." 

He  met  her  gaze  with  a  smile  of  mingled  triumph 
and  admiration. 

"  It  was  a  close  call,  and  you  '11  never  know  how 
near  I  came  to  falKng  down,"  he  said.  "  It  was  a 
fearful  temptation." 

The  pencilled  brows  went  up  with  a  Httle  arch  of 
interrogation  between  them. 

"  A  temptation  ?     Why  do  you  call  it  that  ?  " 

Bartrow  was  slowly  coming  to  his  own  in  the 
matter  of  unconstraint.  "  If  you  had  ever  dabbled 
in  mineral,  you  'd  know.  When  a  fellow  gets  in 
about  so  deep,  he  'd  foreclose  the  mortgage  on  his 
grandfather's  farm  to  get  money  to  go  on  with.  I 
did  n't  read  between  the  lines  in  your  letter.  I  thought 
the  Philadelphia  man  was  some  friend  of  yours  who 
was  interested  in  a  general  way,  and  the  temptation 
to  faU  on  his  neck  and  weep  was  almost  too  much 
for  me." 

"  You  stiU  caU  it  a  temptation." 

"  It  was  just  that,  and  nothing  less.  I  had  the 
toughest  kind  of  a  fight  with  myself  before  I  could 
say  no,  and  mean  it." 

"  But  why  should  you  say  no  ?  You  beheve  in  the 
Little  Myriad,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Sure.  But  that 's  for  myself  —  and  for  a  few 
people  who  knew  the  size  of  the  risk  when  they 
staked  me.     So  far  as  I  've  gone  with  it,  it 's  only  a 


290  THE   HELPERS 

big  game  of  chance  ;  and  1  would  n't  let  you  put 
your  money  into  it  unless  I  luiew  it  was  the  surest 
kind  of  a  sure  tiling." 

"  Not  if  I  believe  in  it,  too  ?  Not  if  I  am  willing 
to  take  the  chances  that  you  and  the  others  have 
taken  ?  "  Myra  conceived  that  her  mistake  lay  in 
putting  it  upon  the  ground  of  a  purely  business 
transaction,  and  changed  front  with  truly  feminine 
adroitness.  "  Won't  you  let  me  have  just  a  tiny 
share  of  it?  Enough  so  that  when  I  go  back  to 
Philadelphia  I  can  say  that  I  am  interested  in  a 
mine  ?  I  shoidd  think  you  might.  I  '11  promise  to 
be  the  most  tractable  and  obedient  stockliolder  you 
have." 

She  made  the  plea  like  a  spoiled  child  begging  for 
a  toy,  but  tliere  was  no  mistaking  the  earnestness 
of  it.  Bartrow  felt  his  fine  determination  oozing, 
and  was  moved  to  tramp  again,  making  a  circuit 
of  the  entire  room  this  time,  and  saying  to  himself 
with  many  emphatic  repetitions  that  it  could  not  be 
possible,  —  that  her  motive  was  only  charitable,  — 
that  he  was  nothing  more  to  her  than  Connie's 
friend.  When  he  spoke  again  his  circlings  had 
brought  him  to  the  back  of  her  chair. 

"  You  're  making  it  fearfully  hard  for  me,  and 
the  worst  of  it  is  that  you  don't  seem  to  know  it. 
You  think  I  am  a  mining  crank,  hke  all  the  rest  of 
them,  and  so  I  am ;  but  there  was  method  in  my 
madness.  I  never  cared  overmuch  for  money  until 
I  came  to  know  what  it  is  to  love  a  woman  who  has 
too  much  of  it.  ' 


THE   HELPERS  291 

There  was  manifestly  no  reply  to  be  made  to  such 
a  pointless  speech  as  this,  and  when  he  resumed  his 
cireumambulatory  march  she  began  to  tiun  the 
leaves  of  the  book  again.  When  it  became  evident 
that  he  was  not  going  to  elucidate,  she  said,  "  Mean- 
ing Connie?  " 

"  No,  not  meaning  Connie."  He  had  drifted 
around  to  the  back  of  her  chair  again.  "  I  wish 
you  'd  put  that  book  away  for  a  few  minutes.  It 
owls  me." 

"  I  will,  if  you  will  stop  circling  about  and  talk- 
ing down  on  me  from  the  ceiHng.  It 's  dreadfully 
distressing." 

He  laughed  and  drew  up  a  chair  facing  her  ;  drew 
it  up  imtil  the  arm  of  it  touched  hers. 

"  It 's  a  stand-off,"  he  said,  with  cheerful  effront- 
ery ;  "  only  I  did  n't  mean  my  part  of  it.  Let 's  see, 
where  were  we  ?  You  said,  '  Meaning  Connie,'  and 
I  said,  'No,  not  meaning  Connie.'  I  meant  some 
one  else.  Until  I  met  her,  the  Little  Myriad  was 
merely  a  hole  in  the  ground,  not  so  very  different 
from  other  holes  in  the  ground  except  that  it  was 
mine  —  and  it  was  n't  the  Little  Myriad  then,  either. 
After  that,  it  got  its  name  changed,  and  its  mission, 
too.  From  that  day  its  business  was  to  make  it 
possible  for  me  to  go  to  her  and  say,  '  I  love  you ; 
you,  yourseK,  and  not  your  money.  I  've  money 
enough  of  my  owti.'  " 

She  heard  him  through  with  the  face  of  a  graven 
image.     "  And  now  ?  " 

"  And  now  I  can't  do  it ;  I  can  never  do  it,  I  'm 


292  THE   HELPERS 

afraid.  The  Little  Myriad  has  gone  back  on  me, 
and  1  'm  nearer  flat  broke  to-day  than  I  've  ever 
been." 

"  But  this  unfortunate  young  person  who  has  too 
much  money  —  she  is  young,  is  n't  she  ?  —  has  she 
nothing  to  say  about  it  ?  " 

Bartrow  answered  his  own  thought  rather  than 
her  question.  "  She  couldn't  be  happy  with  every- 
body saying  she  'd  staked  her  husband." 

''  Has  she  told  you  that  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  it 's  so,  —  you  know  it 's  so." 

Bartrow  was  no  juggler  in  figures  of  speech,  and 
his  fictitious  third  person  threatened  to  become  un- 
manageable. 

Her  smile  was  good  to  look  upon.  "  I  don't 
know  anything  of  the  kind.  I  think  she  would  be 
very  foolish  to  let  such  an  absurd  thing  make  her 
unhappy  —  supposing  any  one  should  be  unkind 
enough  to  say  it." 

"  They  would  say  it,  and  I  'd  hear  of  it :  and 
then  there  'd  be  trouble." 

"  But  you  say  you  love  her ;  is  n't  your  love 
strong  enough  to  rise  above  such  things  ?  You  think 
the  sacrifice  would  be  hers,  but  it  would  n't ;  it 
would  be  yours." 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  make  that  out." 

Myra's  heart  sank  within  her.  It  hurt  her  im- 
measurably to  be  driven  to  plead  her  own  cause,  but 
the  money-fact  was  inexorable ;  and  the  look  in 
Bartrow's  eyes  was  her  warrant  when  she  dared  to 
read  it. 


THE   HELPERS  293 

"  Oh,  can't  you  see  ?  "  The  words  wrought  them- 
selves into  a  plea,  though  she  strove  to  say  them  dis- 
passionately. "  If  it  touch  your  self-respect  ever  so 
little,  the  sacrifice  is  all  yom-s." 

That  point  of  view  was  quite  new  to  Bartrow.  He 
took  time  to  think  it  out,  but  when  the  truth 
clinched  itself  he  went  straight  to  the  mark. 

"  I  never  saw  that  side  of  it  before  —  don't  quite 
see  it  now.  But  if  you  do,  that 's  different.  It 's 
you,  httle  woman  ;  and  1  do  love  you  —  you,  your- 
self, and  not  your  money.  I  wish  I  could  go  on  and 
say  the  rest  of  it,  but  I  can't.  WiU  you  take  me 
for  better  or  for  worse  —  with  an  even  chance  that 
it 's  going  to  be  all  worse  and  no  better?  " 

Her  eyes  filled  with  quick  tears,  and  her  voice  was 
tremulous.  "  It  would  serve  you  right  if  I  should 
say  no ;  you've  fairly  made  me  beg  you  to  ask  me!  " 

Her  hand  was  on  the  arm  of  the  chair,  and  he 
possessed  himself  of  it  and  raised  it  to  his  Kps  with 
gentle  reverence. 

"  You  '11  have  to  begin  making  allowances  for  me 
right  at  the  start,"  he  said  himibly.  "When  I  make 
any  bad  breaks  you  must  remember  it 's  because 
I  don't  know  any  better,  and  that  away  down  deep 
under  it  aU  I  love  you  well  enough  to  —  to  go  to 
jail  for  you.  Will  you  wait  for  me  while  I  skirmish 
around  and  try  to  get  on  my  feet  again?  " 

"  No  "  —  with  sweet  petulance. 

"  There  it  is,  you  see ;  another  bad  break  right 
on  top  of  the  first.  Suppose  you  talk  a  while  and 
let  me  listen.     I  'm  good  at  listening." 


ii94  THE   HELPERS 

•'  I  '11  wait,  if  you  want  me  to,  —  and  if  you  will 
let  me  help  you  to  go  on  with  the  Little  Myriad." 

Bartiow's  laugh  had  a  ring  of  boyish  joy  in  it. 

"  Back  to  the  old  cross-roads,  are  n't  we  ?  I  '11 
let  you  in  on  it  now ;  but  if  you  take  the  mine  you'll 
have  to  take  the  man  along  with  the  other  incum- 
brances, —  simultaneously,  so  to  speak." 

"  I  thought  you  were  anxious  to  wait." 

"  If  you  were  as  poor  as  I  am,  I  'd  ask  you  to 
make  it  high  noon  to-morrow." 

"  Oh !  the  money  again.  Can't  we  put  it  aside, 
once  for  all  ?  There  is  n't  so  much  of  it  as  you  may 
imagine." 

Bartrow  overleaped  the  barrier  at  a  boimd. 

"  Then  let 's  make  it  noon  to-morrow.  If  we  are 
going  to  push  the  Myriad  I  ought  to  go  back  to- 
morrow night." 

She  tried  to  scoff  at  hmi,  but  there  was  love  in 
her  eyes. 

"  Connie  said  once  that  you  were  Young-man- 
afraid-of-his-horses,  but  she  does  n't  know  you.  I 
believe  you  more  than  half  mean  it." 

"  I  do  mean  it.  If  I  sit  here  and  look  at  you 
much  longer  I  shall  be  begging  you  to  make  it  nine 
o'clock  instead  of  twelve.  Don't  ask  me  to  wait 
very  long.  It  '11  be  hard  enough  to  go  off  and  leave 
you  afterward.  It 's  a  good  bit  more  than  a  hundred 
miles  in  a  straight  line  from  Denver  to  Topeka 
Mountain." 

"  I  'm  going  with  you,"  she  said  calmly. 

"  You  ?  —  to  live  in  a  wicky-up  on  the  side  of  a 


THE  HELPERS  295 

bald  mountain  ?  But  you  know  what  it  is  ;  you  've 
been  there.     You  'd  die  of  the  bhies  in  a  week." 

"  "VVouhl  I  ? "  She  rose  and  stood  beside  his 
chair.  "  You  don't  know  much  about  me,  yet,  do 
you  ?  If  the  '  wicky-up  '  is  good  enough  for  you,  it 
is  good  enough  for  me.  I  am  going  with  you,  and 
I  'm  going  to  make  that  dear  little  log  cabin  a  place 
that  you  will  always  be  glad  to  remember,  —  if  I 
can." 

He  drew  her  down  on  the  arm  of  the  chair. 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  that  way,  Myra,  —  you  must  n't, 
you  know.  I  'm  not  used  to  it,  and  it  breaks  me  all 
up.  If  you  say  another  word  I  shall  want  to  make 
it  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning  instead  of  nine." 

"  Can  you  wait  a  month  ?  " 

"  No." 

"Three  weeks?" 

"  No." 

She  gave  up  in  despair.  "  You  are  dreadfuUy 
imreasonable." 

"  I  know  it ;  I  was  born  that  way  and  I  can't 
help  it.  I  sha'n't  insist  on  to-morrow,  because  I  'm 
not  sure  that  Wun  Ling  has  anything  for  us  to  eat ; 
but  one  week  from  to-morrow,  when  I  've  had  time 
to  stock  up  and  straighten  up  a  bit,  is  going  to  be 
the  limit.     Can  you  make  it  ?  " 

"  What  if  I  say  no  ?  " 

"  I  shall  come  anyway." 

She  bent  over  until  her  lips  touched  his  forehead. 

"  That  is  your  answer,  only  you  don't  deserve  it. 
And  now  will  you  answer  my  question?     I  asked 


296  THE   HELPERS 

3-^011  when  you  came  in  if  you  had  been  to  dinner, 
and  you  said  '  Good  Lord  ! '  " 

"  Did  I  ?  I  think  I  must  have  been  a  bit  rattled. 
You  see,  I  'd  just  heard  some  bad  news,  and  I  w-as 
expecting  to  find  Connie,  and  w^as  n't  expecting  to 
find  you." 

"  Did  Connie  write  you  she  would  meet  you  ?  " 

He  had  one  hand  free  to  fish  out  the  day-old  tele- 
gram and  give  it  to  her.  She  read  it  with  a  swift 
blush  crimsoning  cheek  and  neck. 

"•  The  unscrupulous  little  tyke ! "  she  said ;  and 
then,  with  self-defensive  tact :  "  But  you  said  j'^ou 
had  bad  news." 

"  Yes.  A  mine  that  our  good  old  Uncle  Steve  is 
pretty  deeply  into  has  gone  dry." 

"  Failed,  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that 's  it.  I  wish  you  'd  teach  me  how  to 
talk  English,  —  good  clean  English,  like  yours. 
Connie  has  tried  it,  but  pshaw !  she  's  worse  than  I 
am.  But  about  the  Lodestar :  I  don't  know  how 
deep  the  old  man  is  in ;  he  's  such  an  innocent  old 
infant  about  putting  up  money  that  I  'm  awfully 
afraid  they  have  salted  him.  You  must  pump  Con- 
nie and  find  out.  1 11  be  in  Leadville  to-morrow 
night,  and  if  there  is  anything  to  be  done  on  the 
ground  I  '11  do  it.  The  old  man  has  been  a  second 
father  to  me." 

Myra  promised,  and  went  back  once  more  to  the 
unanswered  dinner  (|uery. 

"Now  you  remmd  me  of  it,  I  believe  I  haven't 
been  to  dinner,"  he  admitted.     "  But  that 's  nothing ; 


THE  HELPERS  297 

a  meal  or  two  more  or  less  is  n't  to  be  mentioned  at 
such  a  time  as  this." 

"  I  am  going  to  get  you  sometliing." 

"  No,  don't ;  I  'm  too  happy  to  eat." 

But  she  insisted,  and  when  she  came  back  with  a 
dainty  luncheon  on  a  tea-tray  he  did  ample  justice 
to  it,  if  for  no  better  reason  than  that  she  sat  on 
the  other  side  of  the  smaU  reading-table  and  made 
tea  for  him. 

Afterward,  when  the  time  drew  near  for  the 
EUiotts'  return,  he  took  his  leave,  though  it  was  yet 
early. 

"  They  are  the  best  friends  I  have  on  earth,"  he 
said,  when  Myra  went  to  the  door  with  him,  "  but 
somehow,  I  feel  as  if  I  did  n't  want  to  meet  anybody 
I  know,  —  not  to-night.  I  want  to  have  it  all  to 
myself  for  a  few  hours." 

She  laughed  at  that ;  a  laugh  with  an  upbubbling 
of  content  and  pure  happiness  in  it ;  and  sent  him  off 
with  his  heart  afire.  When  he  was  halfway  down  the 
wallc  she  recalled  him.     He  came  back  obediently. 

"  It  win  cost  you  sometliing  every  time  you  do 
that,"  he  protested,  exacting  the  penalty.  "  Was 
that  what  you  wanted?" 

"  Of  course  not !  I  merely  wanted  to  ask  you 
what  it  is  to  '  owl '  a  person.  You  said  I  '  owled  ' 
you." 

"  Did  I  ?  Well,  you  don't ;  you  never  can.  That 
is  the  best  definition  I  can  think  of :  something  you 
can  never  do  to  me.  May  I  say  good-night  again? 
the  way  I  did  a  minute  ago  ?  " 


298  THE   HELPERS 

The  glare  of  the  arc-light  swinging  between  its 
poles  across  the  avenue  was  quite  rutliless,  and  there 
were  passers-by  in  straggling  procession  on  the  side- 
walk. But  at  the  critical  instant  the  kindly  incan- 
descence burned  blue,  clicked,  fizzed,  and  died  down 
to  a  red  spot  in  the  darkness.  For  which  cause 
Bartrow  presently  went  his  way,  with  the  heart-fire 
upblazing  afresh ;  and  when  Myra  won  back  to  the 
library  and  the  cosy  depths  of  the  great  chair,  the 
color  scheme  of  fair  neck  and  cheek  and  brow  was 
not  altogether  the  reflection  from  the  crimson  shade 
of  the  reading-lamp. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

CONSTANCE    TO    MYRA 

My  dear  Lady  Bountieul:  Your  letter  — 
the  ridiculous  one  —  came  yesterday.  The  idea  of 
your  proposing  in  the  very  morning  of  your  honey- 
month  to  take  the  CoKax  Avenue  house  and  turn  it 
into  a  home  for  indigent  relatives!  As  Tommie 
would  put  it,  "  Wot  are  you  givin'  us !  " 

But  seriously,  cuzzy  dear,  it 's  quite  out  of  the 
question.  Papa  woidd  n't  hear  to  it,  and  besides,  we 
are  getting  along  very  cosily  now,  re-learning  a  good 
many  lessons  that  prosperity  makes  one  forget.  One 
of  them  is  that  gratitude  is  n't  quite  like  the  dodo,  — 
gone  into  fossilistic  extinction,  you  know. 

Margaret  Gannon  is  one  of  the  instances.  She 
has  taken  a  room  in  our  block,  and  there  is  no  limit 
to  her  great  Irish  tender-heartedness.  If  I  'd  let 
her,  she  would  make  me  sit  down  and  hold  my 
hands  while  she  does  the  housework  of  our  three 
rooms.  In  spite  of  all  I  can  say  or  do,  she  does  do  a 
great  deal  of  it ;  and  I  can  hear  her  sewing-machine 
buzzing  deep  into  the  night  to  pay  for  it. 

Tommie  is  another.  The  day  we  moved  down 
here  from  the  old  home  in  CoKax  Avenue  that  "  irre- 
claimable little    savage,"  as   you    once   called  him, 


300  THE  HELPERS 

brought  me  his  surplus  of  a  dollar  and  something 
and  asked  me  to  "  blow  it  in  "  for  him.  Think  of 
it  and  weep,  you  luxury-spoiled  darling !  I  could 
have  hugged  him,  dirt  and  all.  And  since  that  day 
he  lias  been  my  Ariel,  in  more  ways  than  you  woidd 
think  possible.  He  is  so  sharp  and  keen-\vitted ; 
and  his  philanthropy  has  developed  into  a  passion. 

Mr.  Lansdale  has  been  most  kind.  That  is  the 
proper  phrase,  I  believe,  but  now  that  I  have  written 
it  down  it  seems  trite  and  meaningless.  If  I  say 
that  he  has  fairly  earned  the  right  to  sign  himself 
"  Robert  Lansdale,  Gentleman,"  you  wiU  under- 
stand. The  change  in  our  circumstances  has  been  a 
test  that  he  alone  of  all  our  friends  has  been  able  to 
endure  unmoved.  I  don't  say  that  others  are  not 
kind  and  sympathetic,  but  they  are  —  well,  they 
are  different.  Now  that  I  can  say  it  without  hurt- 
ing you,  I  'U  admit  that  I  've  always  had  a  good  bit 
of  contempt  for  culture  of  the  imported  variety  (I 
think  I  have  been  spelling  it  "culchah"),  but  Mr. 
Lansdale  has  converted  me.  It  is  worth  something 
to  be  able  to  rise  superior  to  circumstances,  —  the 
circumstances  of  others,  I  mean,  —  and,  between  us 
two,  it 's  a  virtue  to  which  we  new  people  have  n't 
quite  attained. 

I  presume  you  read  the  Denver  papers,  and  if 
you  do  you  know  all  I  could  tell  you  about  the  per- 
son whom  you  once  said  was  better  worth  saving 
than  other  people.  Mr.  Lansdale,  who  was  one  of 
the  original  trio,  you  remember,  talks  very  sparingly 
of  Mr.  Jeffard  ;  from  which  I  infer  that  there  is  n't 


THE  HELPERS  301 

much  to  be  said,  —  in  mixed  company.  The  newly 
arrived  one  lives  in  an  apartment  building,  and 
papa  says  they  are  beginning  to  call  him  a  miser 
on  the  street.  They  'd  say  that  of  any  capitalist 
who  would  n't  invest  in  at  least  one  "  gi'ound-floor  " 
a  day ;  but  I  tliink  you  will  agree  with  me  that  they 
can't  say  anything  worse  than  the  truth  about  him. 
I  have  n't  had  the  ill-chance  to  meet  him  yet  (I  hope 
I  '11  be  spared  that),  but  I  am  afraid  Tommie  has 
been  sppng  upon  him,  —  for  reasons  of  his  own 
which  he  won't  explain.  I  happened  to  overhear 
the  final  volley  of  a  small  battle  royal  between  my 
Ariel  and  Margaret  the  other  day,  which  had  in  it 
a  hint  of  an  unnamable  thing,  —  a  thing  which  in- 
volves Margaret  and  the  unworthy  one.  You  may 
remember  that  he  once  posed  as  her  deus  ex  madiina. 
And  she  has  grown  dangerously  beautiful  in  her 
year  of  uprightness. 

When  you  write,  tell  me  all  about  your  plans  for 
the  siunmer ;  and  believe  me  always 

Your  cousin-content, 

Connie. 

myea  to  constance 
Dear  Connie  :  Really,  the  S.  P.  C.  C.  ought 
to  take  you  in  hand !  To  think  of  the  cold-blooded 
way  in  which  you  hoodwinked  us  up  to  the  very  last 
moment,  making  us  believe  that  the  Lodestar  in- 
volvement was  next  to  nothing,  and  keeping  the  home 
intact  solely  for  the  purpose  of  providing  a  proper 
stage-setting  for  the  final  act  of  oui"  little  comedy- 


302  THE   HELPERS 

drama !  It 's  fairly  heart-breaking ;  the  more  since 
you  won't  let  us  share  with  you,  as  we  'd  be  glad  to. 
Before  you  saw  fit  to  confide  in  us,  Dick  had  used 
every  argument  short  of  a  pick-handle  to  convince 
me  that  I  should  presently  go  back  to  Denver  and 
creature  comforts,  leaving  him  here  to  go  on  delving 
in  the  Myriad.  I  only  laughed  at  him,  but  I  '11  re- 
cant if  you  will  listen  to  reason,  and  let  me  make  a 
home  for  you  and  Uncle  Stephen.  But  as  between 
liAdng  a  three-quarter  widow  in  Denver  on  mere 
visiting  terms  with  you  and  your  father,  and  hiber- 
nating here  with  Dick,  you  may  be  sure  I  shall 
choose  the  latter. 

We  are  both  as  enthusiastic  as  can  be  over  the 
prospects  of  the  mine.  The  new  machinery  is  on 
the  way,  and  we  are  down  twenty  feet  on  the  incline. 
Another  month  will  surely  carry  it  into  pay-rock. 
(You  see  I  am  learning  to  talk  "  mineral-English  " 
with  the  best  of  them.)  Under  the  circumstances, 
I  don't  blame  Dick  for  wantmg  to  stay  right  here 
every  day ;  and  it  won't  be  so  lonesome  for  me  as 
you  may  imagine.  You  see  I  have  Dick,  and  he  can 
be  a  whole  cit}^ul  upon  occasion. 

You  would  n't  know  "  The  Eyrie  "  (Dick  says  the 
altitude  is  so  great  that  we  had  to  have  a  high- 
sounding  name)  since  we  have  begun  to  remodel  it. 
We  are  to  have  another  room,  a  larger  Idtchen  for 
Wun  Ling  (oh,  he  is  a  celestial  treasure !  —  quite 
the  archangel  of  the  culinary  host),  a  huge  chimney, 
with  immense  fireplaces,  against  a  possible  winter 
here,   and   a  wider   porch,  —  board-floored,  if  you 


THE   HELPERS  303 

please.  And  inside  I  have  rugged  and  portiered, 
and  pictured  and  bric-a-bracked,  until  the  pristine 
barkiness  of  the  place  is  all  but  effaced. 

So  far,  with  the  exception  of  an  occasional  call 
from  Mr.  McMurtrie,  we  have  been  "  each  other's 
own  best  company ;  "  but  if  I  stay  up  all  summer  it 
will  be  conditional  upon  your  and  Uncle  Stephen's 
spending  at  least  a  month  with  us  when  the  hot 
weather  makes  your  block  uncomfortable.  Don't 
say  no  beforehand,  unless  you  want  to  make  me 
quite  disgusted. 

Mr.  Lansdale  is  a  lineal  descendant  in  the  direct 
line  of  the  Chevalier,  —  the  sans  ^je^^r  et  sajis  re- 
proche  one ;  you  know  I  've  always  said  that  of  him. 
It  chokes  me  when  I  think  of  what  is  lying  in  wait 
for  him.  Isn't  there  the  least  little  glimmer  of 
hope  ?  He  looked  so  bright  and  eager  on  our  wed- 
ding day  that  I  could  almost  make  myseK  believe  he 
was  going  to  get  well.  You  must  be  very,  very 
careful,  Connie  dear ;  not  to  encourage  him  too 
much,  I  mean ;  not  unless  you  —  but  I  sha'n't  say 
it  without  your  warrant. 

What  you  say  about  Margaret  Gannon's  Irish 
true-heartedness  reminds  me  of  our  own  wild  Irish- 
man. He  is  the  mine  blacksmith,  a  perfect  Sheridan 
for  wit  and  repartee  when  he  is  sober,  and  a  maniac 
of  maniacs  when  he  is  drunk, — which  happens  when- 
ever Dick  relaxes  his  vigilance  for  a  single  hour. 

The  other  day  Pat  (if  he  has  any  other  name 
I  've  never  heard  it)  did  a  thing  heroic.  They  are 
using  dynamite   in  the  tunnel,  and  after  the  noon 


304  THE  HELPERS 

blasts  one  of  tlie  miners  went  in  before  the  deadly 
gas  had  been  properly  "  ventilated  "  out.  One  of 
the  others  saw  him  stumble  and  go  headlong  down 
the  incline,  and  the  cry  went  back  to  the  entrance. 
Pat  heard  it  (he  was  sober  that  day),  flung  his  tools 
to  the  four  winds,  dashed  into  the  pit  of  death,  and 
came  out  black  in  the  face,  but  with  the  man  on  his 
shoulder,  just  as  Dick  got  down  to  the  entrance. 
Was  n't  that  fine  ? 

As  you  surmise,  we  have  read  all  that  the  news- 
papers are  saying  about  Mr.  Jeffard.  Is  n't  it  queer 
that  he  slioidd  develop  into  a  millionaire  miser! 
Dick  has  told  me  a  great  deal  about  him,  —  at 
least  about  the  Mr.  JefPard  he  used  to  know,  —  and 
whatever  sins  he  may  have  had  to  answer  for  in 
those  days,  avarice  was  not  one  of  them.  I  suppose 
it  is  another  case  of  money-sj)oihng,  but  I  can't  help 
wanting  to  doubt  your  latest  suspicion  of  him.  I 
read  your  letter  to  Dick,  and  he  shook  his  head  when 
I  came  to  that  part ;  said  he  could  n't  believe  it, 
even  on  your  testimony,  —  that  the  man  might  be 
capable  of  all  sorts  of  villainy,  but  not  that.  So  I 
am  going  over  to  Dick's  point  of  view  far  enough  to 
ask  you  not  to  be  too  hard  upon  the  "  unworthy 
one  "  just  because  he  is  no  longer  one  of  your  pov- 
erty-stricken sinners,  —  he  was  that  once,  was  n't 
he  ?  The  rich  sinners  need  charity  quite  as  really 
as  the  poor ;  of  a  different  kind,  to  be  sure,  and  not 
always  as  easy  to  exercise  as  the  other,  but  none  the 
less  necessary. 

This  is  all  you  are  going  to  get  to-night.     Dick 


THE   HELPERS  305 

has  just  come  up  from  the  mine,  and  he  says  I 
sha'n't  write  any  more  whatever. 

Your  loving  cousin, 

Myra. 

lansdale  to  bartrow 

My  Dear  Richard  :  —  What  with  a  mine  for 
a  taskmaster  and  a  wife  for  your  leisure  I  can  fancy 
you  tossing  tliis  letter  aside  unopened.  But  the 
promise  which  you  exacted  is  herein  kept,  and  it 
must  plead  my  excuse  for  breaking  into  your  honey- 
moon with  a  few  pages  of  barren  gossip. 

First,  as  to  Miss  Elliott  and  her  good  father. 
Your  foreboding  went  nearer  the  mark  than  the 
ostensible  fact.  They  were  merely  postponing  the 
evil  day  until  after  your  wedding,  and  when  the 
crash  came  it  turned  out  to  be  no  less  than  a  catas- 
trophe. Stephen  Elliott  met  it  like  a  man,  giving 
up  everything  to  his  creditors,  and  -coming  down  to 
a  life  of  the  barest  necessities  with  the  serenity  of  a 
philosopher,  happy,  apparently,  that  the  well  of  assets 
was  deep  enough  to  brim  the  tank  of  liabiHty,  though 
at  the  expense  of  the  final  drop. 

I  am  told  that  he  was  left  quite  without  resources 
other  than  a  small  sum  of  money  which  one  of  the 
creditors  absolutely  refused  to  accept ;  and  he  assures 
me  that  he  will  once  more  shoulder  pick  and  shovel 
and  go  afield  again  as  soon  as  the  season  is  a  little 
farther  advanced.  I  confess  frankly  that  the  heroism 
of  it  bedazes  me.  If  there  be  any  finer  example  of 
daimtlessness  in  the  heart  of  man,  the  novellers  have 


3U0  THE   HELPERS 

not  yet  poi-trayed  it  for  us.  He  was  sixty-three  last 
January,  and  he  promises  to  begin  the  search  for  an- 
other competence  with  all  the  enthusiasm  and  ardor 
of  youth ! 

Constance  you  know,  and  I  need  not  assure  you 
that  the  sudden  down-dropping  touches  her  not  at 
all ;  or  if  at  all,  only  on  the  side  of  her  beneficences 
to  others.  So  far  as  one  may  perceive,  the  change 
for  her  is  only  of  encompassments.  She  is  as 
much  above  it  as  she  was  superior  to  the  cheapening 
effect  of  an  elastic  bank  account.  To  me  she  seems 
the  sweeter  for  the  chastening,  though  really,  I  pre- 
sume, she  is  neither  better  nor  worse  for  it,  —  nor 
any  different.  You  may  be  sure  that  my  first  call 
upon  them  after  the  submergence  was  made  with  a 
heartf id  of  sympathy,  —  which  I  took  away  with  me, 
and  with  it  a  lesson  in  sincerity  and  simple-hearted- 
ness rare  enough  in  my  experience.  There  is  gentle 
blood  and  enviable  in  these  two.  My  pen  is  too 
clumsy  to  ink  in  the  details  of  this  picture  for  you. 

As  to  Jeffard:  When  he  made  his  appearance 
I  struck  hands  with  your  point  of  view  sufficiently 
to  meet  him  as  if  nothing  save  good  fortune  had 
overtaken  him,  —  an  attitude  wliich  it  is  sometimes 
as  difficult  for  me  to  maintain  as  it  appears  alto- 
gether impossible  for  some  others  who  used  to  loiow 
him.  By  which  you  will  imderstand  that  he  is 
ostracized  in  a  way,  or  would  be  in  any  casting  of 
the  potsherd  votes  by  the  unthinking  majority. 

I  am  bound  to  say,  however,  that  the  whiplash  of 
public  opinion  does  not  seem  to  be  quite  long  enough 


THE   HELPERS  307 

to  reach  him.  A  fortnight  ago,  for  reasons  chari- 
table or  experimental,  as  you  please,  I  got  him  a 
bidding  to  one  of  Mrs.  Cahnaiue's  "  ridottos."  You 
know  Mrs.  Calmaine  and  her  tolerance,  and  you  will 
appreciate  the  situation  when  I  tell  you  that  I  had 
to  manoeuvre  a  bit  for  the  formal  invitation,  though 
Jeffard  used  to  be  in  her  good  book.  Jeffard  ac- 
cepted, and  I  went  with  him  to  see  what  woidd 
befall.  There  were  a  good  many  there  who  had 
known  the  prehistoric  Jeffard,  and  while  they  did 
not  pointedly  ignore  him,  they  seemed  to  be  divided 
between  a  desire  to  cold-shoiJder  the  man  and  to 
conciliate  the  prospective  millionaire  ;  —  wherefore 
they  compromised  by  giving  him  what  you  would 
call  ''  the  high  hand-shake." 

Whatever  may  have  been  my  motive  in  dragging 
him  into  it,  Jeffard' s  own  reasons  for  going  were 
confessedly  experimental.  So  much  he  confided  to 
me  on  our  early  retreat  from  the  house  of  mirth. 
"  I  wanted  to  find  out  where  I  stand,"  he  said,  "  and 
these  good  people  have  been  quite  explicit.  Don't 
get  me  any  more  invitations."  And  after  a  time 
he  added,  "  I  can  buy  them  when  I  want  them." 
From  which  you  will  infer  that  he  will  henceforth 
sit  in  the  seat  of  the  scornful,  and  this,  I  fear,  is  the 
lamentable  fact. 

Touching  his  present  mode  of  life,  it  borders  on 
the  puzzling.  With  a  bank  deposit  which  is  cur- 
rently reported  to  reach  seven  figures,  and  which  is 
doubtless  well  up  in  the  sixes,  he  lives  in  two  rooms 
in  a  block,  and  takes  his  meals  at  the  club.     A  very 


308  THE   HELPERS 

rich  spendthrift  might  do  this,  you  will  say,  saving 
at  the  spigot  and  wasting  at  the  bung ;  but  so  far  as 
my  observation  goes,  Jelfard  seems  not  to  know  that 
his  barrel  has  a  bung.  And  if  any  of  the  staves 
have  started  on  the  side  of  dissij)ation,  the  leak  is 
not  yet  apparent  to  me.  The  other  evening,  when  I 
let  drive  a  little  arrow  pointed  with  a  gibe  at  his 
penuriousness,  he  laughed  and  reminded  me  of  some- 
thing he  had  said  one  night  in  the  famine  time 
when  we  were  dining  by  the  help  of  a  small  windfall 
of  mine.  "  I  told  you  I  should  be  a  miser  if  the 
tide  ever  turned,"  said  he,  "  and  you  scoffed  at  me. 
I  assure  you  I  can  account  for  every  dollar  I  have 
spent  since  the  Midas  began  to  pour  them  in." 

This  is  his  attitude  as  he  defines  it,  but  I  can 
qualify  the  accusation  a  little  on  the  friendly  side. 
I  should  rather  say  that  he  had  set  his  mark  at 
thrifty  frugality.  He  is  not  niggardly ;  in  benevo- 
lences which  may  be  paid  for  in  the  coin  of  effort 
he  is  still  generous ;  and  if  he  were  h\4ng  on  a 
clerk's  income  people  would  commend  him. 

But  I  fancy  I  hear  you  cry  "  Enough !  "  and  this 
ends  with  the  heartiest  good  wshes  for  you  both. 
Faithfidly  j^ours, 

Robert  Lansdale. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

Lansdale  had  defined  himself  as  a  reporter  on  the 
"  Coloradoan,"  but  in  reality  he  was  rather  more,  — 
or  less,  —  being  that  anomalous  member  of  a  news- 
paper staff  known  as  the  literary  editor.  Kershaw 
had  taken  him  in  doubtfully,  and  had  afterward 
wondered  why  a  man  with  such  an  evident  gift  for 
journalistic  work  should  prefer  to  spend  his  days 
and  nights  writing  stories  which  no  one  would  buy. 
For,  contrary  to  all  precedent,  when  he  could  sink 
his  literary  ambitions  the  fictionist  proved  to  be  a 
general  utility  journalist  of  no  uncertain  ability, 
running  the  office  gamut  from  proof-reading  in  an 
emergency  to  filling  the  editorial  columns  on  the  rare 
occasions  when  Kershaw  was  absent. 

It  was  during  one  of  the  Kershawan  absences  that 
the  letter  to  Bartrow  was  written ;  and  the  hands  of 
the  paper-weight  clock  on  the  desk  were  pointing  to 
the  supper  hour  when  Lansdale  dropped  the  pen 
and  drew  down  the  desk-curtain.  Unhke  his  chief, 
he  rarely  ignored  the  supper  recess,  though  a  walk 
in  the  open  air  often  took  the  place  of  the  meal;  and 
having  his  night's  work  well  in  hand,  he  let  himself 
into  the  corridor,  said  "  Down  !  "  and  was  presently 
set  afoot  at  the  street  level. 

As  usual,  the  swift  rush  down  the  elevator-shaft 


310  THE   HELPERS 

dizzied  him,  and  he  had  to  steady  himself  before  he 
could  go  on.  When  he  allowed  himseK  to  think 
about  it  he  realized  that  these  dizzyings  were  grow- 
ing commoner,  and  were  set  awhirl  by  slighter 
exciting  causes.  Another  man,  or  a  man  with 
another  ailment,  might  have  given  the  unnerving 
weakness  its  true  name  and  place  and  succumbed  to 
it ;  but  Lansdale's  metier  had  been  love-transformed 
into  unflinching  hopefulness,  and  the  trivialities  of 
the  daily  walk  had  come  to  be  so  many  blind  and 
desperate  sorties  against  the  indrawing  lines  of  the 
relentless  besieger.  For  of  the  two  lions  standing 
in  the  way  to  the  House  Beautiful  that  named 
Inequality  had  been  slain  by  the  collapse  of  the 
Lodestar ;  wherefore  this  other  of  Ill-health  must 
either  slay  or  be  slain,  since  love  woidd  not  be 
denied. 

This  was  what  was  in  his  resolute  step  when  he 
went  forth  into  the  night ;  into  the  whirl  of  life 
on  the  peopled  streets  and  sidewalks.  Some  vague 
supper  promptings  were  present,  but  a  stronger  im- 
pidse  sent  him  riverward,  away  from  the  thickly 
peopled  wallvs  and  down  into  the  wholesale  district 
toward  a  shabby  apartment  building  which  had  been 
left  stranded  on  the  bar  of  traffic  when  the  uptown 
tide  had  set  in. 

The  little  excursion  was  purposeless,  as  had  been 
many  another  in  the  same  direction ;  but  when  he 
found  himself  opposite  the  stairway  of  the  shabby 
building  he  wondered  if  he  might  not  go  up  and  ask 
Constance  for  a  cup  of  tea.     He  was  wise  in  his 


THE   HELPERS  311 

generation,  and  he  had  long  since  discovered  that 
the  way  to  Constance  Elliott's  heart  lay  through 
helpings  accepted.  With  love  abounding  for  any 
human  soul  at  need,  there  were  precious  reserves  of 
tenderness  for  those  to  whom  she  might  minister. 

Lansdale  glanced  up  at  the  two  lighted  windows 
on  the  third  floor  and  crossed  the  street.  In  the 
stair  archway,  which  was  dimly  lighted  by  a  single 
inefficient  gas-jet,  he  stumbled  upon  a  bit  of  by-play, 
in  which  the  actors  were  a  man  and  a  woman  lean- 
ing together  across  the  stair-rail,  and  a  barelegged 
boy  spying  upon  the  twain  from  the  dimnesses  be- 
yond. The  little  tableau  fell  apart  at  the  sound  of 
the  intruder's  footsteps.  The  boy  vanished  mysteri- 
ovisly,  the  woman  ran  upstairs,  and  the  man  turned 
half  angrily,  as  one  faulted.  It  was  Jeffard ;  and 
when  he  recognized  Lansdale  he  spoke  quickly,  as  if 
to  forestall  possible  comment. 

"  Hello !  —  think  of  the  devil  and  you  'U  hear  the 
clatter  of  his  hoofs.  I  was  just  about  to  go  up  to 
the  print-shop  to  see  if  I  could  find  you.  Been  to 
supper?" 

"  No ;  I  was  "  — 

Jeffard  cut  in  again  swiftly,  with  edgings  street- 
ward. "  That 's  lucky  ;  neither  have  I.  Let 's  go 
up  to  the  club." 

Lansdale  acceded  rather  reluctantly,  since  a  cup 
of  tea  with  Constance  easily  outweighed  the  grill- 
room prospect. 

"  I  '11  go  with  you,  though  I  can't  promise  to  play 
much  of  a  knife  and  fork,"  he  said.     "  I  was  just 


312  THE   HELPERS 

go'nvj;  up  to  ask  Miss  Elliott  to  give  me  a  cup  of 
tea." 

They  were  turning  the  corner  above  the  stranded 
apartment  house  before  Jeffard  returned  the  shuttle 
of  speech. 

"  So  the  Elliotts  live  down  there  now,  do  they  ?  " 

Lansdale  said  "  Yes,"  and  began  to  rummage  in 
recollection.  Had  Jeffard  been  on  Constance  El- 
liott's visiting  list  in  the  prehistoric  time?  It  was 
probable  that  he  had  been,  —  with  Dick  Bartrow 
for  his  sponsor.  But  at  this  point  recollection  turned 
up  the  mental  notes  of  a  certain  talk  with  Barti'ow, 
in  Avhich  the  downright  one  had  confessed  his  sins  of 
omission  Jeffardward.  So  Lansdale  added  a  query 
to  the  affirmative. 

"  Yes  ;  they  live  in  the  Thorson  Block.  Do  you 
know  them  ?  " 

Jeffard' s  reply  was  no  reply.  "  I  '11  have  to  take 
time  to  think  about  it,"  he  said ;  and  they  had 
traversed  the  necessary  streets  and  found  a  table  a 
deux  in  the  grill-room  at  the  club  before  he  pieced 
out  the  unfinished  rejoinder. 

"You  asked  me  if  I  knew  the  Elliotts.  I  did 
know  Miss  Elliott,  —  as  I  knew  some  of  those  peo- 
ple at  Mrs.  Calmaine's  the  other  evening.  It 's 
quite  likely  she  does  not  remember  me." 

Lansdale's  brain  went  apart  again,  and  the  re- 
flective half  of  it  continued  the  rummaging.  On 
the  two  or  three  occasions  when  he  had  mentioned 
the  newest  star  in  the  bonanzine  firmament  Con- 
stance had  been  visibly  disturbed.     The  nature  of 


THE  HELPERS  313 

her  resentment  had  not  been  quite  obvious,  but  Jef- 
fard's  tardy  rejoinder  made  it  clear.  She  had  known 
Jeffard  and  was  sorry  to  be  reminded  of  him. 

Lansdale  had  not  done  full  justice  to  himseK  in 
slurring  his  own  point  of  view  in  the  letter  to  Bar- 
trow.  So  far  as  he  had  analyzed  it  he  had  been 
content  to  call  it  negative,  but  it  was  not  quite  that. 
On  the  contrary,  it  was  complaisant,  concerning 
itself  chiefly  with  the  things  of  past  sight,  and  not 
unduly  with  those  of  present  rimior.  Jeffard  might 
be  an  indubitable  scoundrel  in  his  later  reincarna- 
tion, as  certain  of  the  mining-camp  newspapers  had 
intimated  in  their  accounts  of  the  fight  for  posses- 
sion ;  but  in  the  older  time  he  had  been  a  good 
fellow  and  a  generous  friend  at  a  pinch.  Lansdale 
remembered  some  of  the  generosities,  and  his  heart 
went  soft  at  the  recollection  of  them.  Kershaw  had 
kept  the  secret  of  the  prearranged  purchase  of  cer- 
tain unusable  manuscripts,  but  the  pigeon-holes  of  a 
newspaper  office  are  open  archives,  and  one  day 
Lansdale  had  found  a  clue  which  he  had  followed 
out  to  his  comforting;  a  string  of  hitherto  unex- 
plainable  incidents,  with  two  stanch  friends  at  the 
end  of  it. 

One  of  these  loyal  friends  was  the  man  at  whom 
public  opinion  was  now  pointing  a  dubious  finger  ; 
and  while  Lansdale  was  munching  his  toast  and 
drinking  his  cup  of  weak  tea  in  troubled  silence,  it 
began  to  be  discomfortingly  evident  that  he  must 
presently  take  sides  for  or  against  the  man  whose 
hospitality  he  was  at  that  moment  sharing.     Left  to 


314  THE   HELPERS 

itself,  the  insularity  in  him  would  have  evaded  the 
issue.  Loyalty  of  the  ci-ucible-test  degree  of  fine- 
ness —  the  loyalty  of  the  single  eye  —  must  needs 
sit  below  the  salt  at  the  table  of  any  analyst  of  his 
kind;  and  Lansdale  was  a  student  first  and  a  par- 
tisan only  when  benefits  unforgot  constrained  him. 
Moreover,  frankness  in  the  last  resort  is  rarely  at 
its  best  in  any  vivisector  of  his  fellow-men,  and  it 
was  with  no  little  difficulty  that  Lansdale  made  shift 
to  overleap  the  barrier  of  reserve. 

"  Jeffard,"  he  began,  when  the  weak  tea  was  low 
in  the  cup,  "  we  used  to  be  pretty  near  to  each  other 
in  a  time  that  I  like  to  remember  ;  will  you  bear 
with  me  if  I  say  what  is  in  my  mind  ?  " 

"  Surely,"  said  Jeffard  ;  but  the  tone  was  not  of 
assurance. 

"You  know  what  the  newspapers  intimated  last 
fall,  and  what  people  are  saying  of  you  now  ?  '" 

"Yes." 

"  And  that  your  silence  makes  it  rather  hard  for 
your  friends  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  friends,  Lansdale." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  have ;  or  you  would  have  if  you 
would  take  the  trouble  to  set  yourseK  aright." 

"  What  if  I  cannot  set  myself  aright  ?  " 

"  I  shoidd  be  sorry  to  believe  that,  —  more  than 
sorry  to  be  driven  to  admit  the  alternative." 

"  What  is  the  alternative  ?  " 

Lansdale  hesitated,  as  one  who  has  his  point  at 
his  adversary's  breast  and  is  loath  to  drive  it  in.  "  I 
don't  quite  like  to  put  it  in  words,  Jeffard;  the 


THE  HELPERS  315 

English  is  a  bit  harsh.  But  you  will  understand 
that  it  is  the  smiting  of  a  friend.  So  long  as  you 
refuse  to  say  you  did  n't,  the  sujiposition  is  that  you 
have  robbed  a  man  to  whom  you  were  under  rather 
heavy  obligations." 

"  Is  that  Bartrow's  supposition  ?  " 

"  He  says  it  is  n't,  but  1  'm  afraid  the  wish  is  the 
father  to  the  thought :  in  his  case  as  in  —  as  in  that 
of  others."  Lansdale  added  the  inclusive  in  the  hope 
that  the  wound  would  be  the  better  for  probing. 

Jeffard's  laugh  was  altogether  bitter.  "  '  Give  a 
dog  a  bad  name,'  "  he  quoted.  "  Do  you  know,  I 
fancied  Dick  would  be  obstinate  enough  to  stand  out 
against  the  apparent  fact  ?  " 

"  That  is  precisely  what  he  has  done,  and  with 
less  reason  than  the  most  devoted  partisan  might 
demand.  You  know  you  told  him  that  the  claim 
was  Garvin's.  He  would  n't  believe  the  newspaper 
story ;  he  insisted  that  you  would  be  able  to  '  square ' 
yourself,  as  he  phrased  it,  when  you  came  out." 

Jeffard  was  looking  past  his  interlocutor,  out  and 
beyond  to  where  the  farther  tables  were  emptying 
themselves  of  the  late  diners. 

"  Yet  it  is  his  supposition  ;  and  your  own,  you 
were  going  to  say.     Is  it  Miss  Elliott's  also  ?  " 

Lansdale  resisted  the  impulse  to  rummage  again, 
and  said :  "  I  don't  know  that  —  how  shoidd  I 
know?  But  rumor  has  made  the  charge,  and  you 
have  not  denied  it." 

"  I  don't  mean  to  deny  it  —  not  even  to  her. 
But  neither  have  I  admitted  it." 


316  THE   HELPERS 

"  My  dear  Jeffard !  are  n't  the  facts  an  admis- 
sion ?  —  at  least,  so  long  as  tliey  stand  uncontra- 
dicted." 

"  Everybody  seems  to  think  so,  —  and  I  can  afford 
to  be  indifferent." 

"  Having  the  money,  you  mean  ?  —  possibly.  Am 
I  to  take  that  as  an  admission  of  the  facts  ?  " 

"  Facts  are  fixtures,  are  n't  they  ?  things  not  to 
be  set  up  or  set  aside  by  admissions  or  denials.  But 
you  may  take  it  as  you  please." 

Lansdale  shook  his  head  as  one  whose  deprecation 
is  too  large  for  speech.  "  I  can't  begin  to  under- 
stand it,  Jeffard,  —  the  motive  which  could  impel 
a  man  of  your  convictions,  I  mean." 

Jeffard  broke  forth  in  revilings.  "  AYhat  do  you 
know  about  my  convictions?  What  do  you  know 
about  anything  in  the  heart  of  man  ?  You  have  a 
set  of  formulas  which  you  call  types,  and  into  which 
you  try  to  fit  all  human  beings  arbitrarily,  each 
after  his  kind.  It 's  the  merest  child's-play ;  a  fal- 
lacy based  on  an  assumption.  No  two  men  can  be 
squared  by  the  same  rule ;  no  two  will  do  the  same 
things  under  exactl}^  similar  conditions.  Character- 
study  is  your  specialty,  I  believe ;  but  you  have  yet 
to  learn  that  the  human  atom  is  an  irresponsible 
individuahty." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  have  n't ;  I  grant  you  that.  But 
logically  "  — 

"  Logic  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  it.  It 's 
ego,  pure  and  unstrained,  in  most  of  us ;  a  sluggish 
river  of  self,  with  a  quicksand  of  evil  for  its  bottom." 


THE   HELPERS  317 

Lansclale  borrowed  a  gun  of  his  antagonist,  and 
sighted  it  accurately. 

"  What  do  you  know  about  humanity  as  a  whole  ? 
What  do  you  know  about  any  part  of  it  save  your 
OAvn  infhiitesinial  fraction  ?  —  wliich  seems  to  be  a 
rather  unfair  sample." 

Jeffard  confessed  judgment  and  paid  the  costs. 
"  I  don't  know  very  much  about  the  sample,  Lans- 
dale.  One  time  —  it  was  in  the  sophomore  year,  I 
believe  —  I  thought  I  knew  my  own  potentialities. 
But  I  did  n't.  If  any  one  had  prophesied  then  that 
I  had  it  in  me  to  do  what  I  have  done,  I  should 
have  demanded  a  miracle  to  confirm  it." 

"  But  you  must  justify  yourseK  to  yourself," 
Lansdale  persisted. 

"Why  must  I?  That  is  another  of  your  cut-and- 
dried  formulas.  So  far  from  recognizing  any  such 
obligation,  I  may  say  that  I  gave  up  trying  to  ac- 
count for  myself  a  long  time  ago.  And  if  I  have 
found  it  impossible,  it  is  n't  worth  while  for  you  to 
try." 

Lansdale  was  not  the  man  to  bruise  his  hands 
with  much  beating  upon  the  barred  doors  of  any 
one's  confidence.  So  he  said,  "  I  'm  done.  It 's 
between  you  and  your  conscience,  —  if  you  have  n't 
eliminated  that  with  the  other  things.  But  I  had 
hoped  you  'd  see  fit  to  defend  yourself.  The  eternal 
query  is  sharp  enough  without  the  pointing  of  par- 
ticular instances." 

Jeffard  squared  himself,  with  his  elbows  on  the 
table. 


318  THE   HELPERS 

"  Do  you  want  an  hypothesis,  too  ?  —  as  another 
man  did?  Take  this,  and  make  the  most  of  it. 
You  knew  me  and  my  lacks  and  havings.  You 
knew  that  I  had  reached  a  point  at  which  I  would 
have  pawned  my  soul  for  the  wherewithal  to  pur- 
chase a  short  hour  or  two  of  forgetfidness.  Hold 
that  picture  in  your  mind,  and  conceive  that  a  sum- 
mer of  unsuccessful  prospecting  had  not  changed 
me  for  better  or  worse.  Is  the  point  of  view  unob- 
sti'ucted  ?  " 

"  The  point  of  view  is  your  own,  not  mine,"  Lans- 
dale  objected.  "  And,  moreover,  the  summer  did 
change  you,  because  advancement  in  some  direction 
is  an  irrefrangible  law.     But  go  on." 

"  I  will.  This  man  whom  you  have  in  mind  was 
suddenly  brought  face  to  face  with  a  great  tempta- 
tion, —  great  and  subtle.  Garvin  drove  the  tunnel 
on  the  Midas  three  years  ago  and  abandoned  it  as 
wortliless.  It  was  my  curiosity  which  led  to  the 
discovery  of  the  gold.  It  was  I  who  took  the  sample 
to  the  assay er  and  carried  the  news  of  the  bonanza 
to  GarAon.  I  might  have  kejjt  the  knowledge  to 
myself,  but  I  did  n't.  Why  ?  do  you  ask  ?  I  don't 
know  —  perhaps  because  it  didn't  occur  to  me. 
What  foUowed  Bartrow  has  told  you,  but  not  all. 
Let  us  assume  that  the  race  to  Aspen  was  made  in 
good  faith;  that  this  man  who  had  put  honor  and 
good  report  behind  him  really  meant  to  stand  be- 
tween a  drunken  fool  and  the  fate  he  was  rushing 
upon.     Can  you  go  so  far  with  me  ?  " 

Lausdale  nodded.     He  was  spellbound,  but  it  was 


THE   HELPERS  319 

the  artist  in  him  and  not  the  man  who  hung  breath- 
less npon  the  edge  of  expectancy. 

"  Very  well ;  now  for  the  crux.  This  man  knelt 
behind  a  locked  door  and  heard  himself  execrated 
by  the  man  he  was  ti-ying  to  save ;  heard  the  first 
kindly  impulse  he  had  yielded  to  in  months  distorted 
into  a  desperate  plan  to  rob  the  cursing  maniac.  Is 
it  past  behef  that  he  crept  away  from  the  locked 
door  and  sat  down  to  ask  himself  in  hot  resentment 
why  he  should  go  on  ?  Is  it  not  conceivable  that  he 
should  have  begun  to  give  ear  to  the  plea  of  seK- 
preservation  ?  —  to  say  to  himself  that  if  the  maniac 
were  no  better  than  a  lost  man  it  was  no  reason  that 
the  treasure  should  be  lost  also  ?  " 

It  was  altogether  conceivable,  and  Lansdale  nodded 
again.  Jeffard  found  a  cigar  and  went  on  while  he 
was  clipping  the  end  of  it. 

"  But  that  was  not  all.  Picture  this  man  at  the 
crumbling  point  of  resolution  tiptoeing  to  the  door 
to  Hsten  again.  He  has  heard  enough  to  convince 
him  that  the  miracle  of  fortune  will  be  worse  than 
wasted  upon  the  drunken  witling.  Now  he  is  to 
hear  that  the  besotted  fool  has  already  transferred 
whatever  right  he  had  in  the  Midas  to  the  two  de- 
spoilers  ;  signed  a  quitclaun,  sold  his  miracle  for  a 
drink  or  two  of  whiskey,  more  or  less.  Are  you 
listening  ?  " 

Lansdale  moistened  his  lips  with  the  lees  of  the 
tea  in  the  empty  cup,  and  said,  "  Yes ;  go  on." 

Jeffard  sat  back  and  lighted  the  cigar.  "  That 's 
all,"  he  said  curtly.     "  It 's  enough,  isn't  it?     You 


320  THE   HELPERS 

knew  the  man  a  year  ago ;  you  think  you  know  him 
now.     "Wliat  woukl  he  do  ?  " 

If  the  hypothesis  were  intended  to  be  a  test  of 
blind  loyalty  it  missed  the  mai'k  by  just  so  much  as 
the  student  of  his  Idnd  must  hold  himself  aloof  from 
sympathetic  entanglements.  Lansdale  weighed  the 
evidence,  not  as  a  partisan,  but  rather  as  an  onlooker 
whose  point  of  view  was  wholly  extrinsic. 

"  I  understand,"  said  he  ;  "  the  man  would  do  as 
you  have  done.  It 's  your  own  affair.  As  I  said  a 
few  minutes  ago,  it  is  between  you  and  your  private 
conscience.  And  I  dare  say  if  the  facts  were  kno^^^l 
the  public  conscience  would  n't  condemn  you.  Don't 
you  want  to  use  the  columns  of  the  '  Coloradoan '  ?  " 

Jeffard's  negative  was  explosive.  "  Do  you  wa-ite 
me  down  a  fool  as  well  as  a  knave?  Damn  the 
public  conscience ! " 

"  Don't  swear ;  I  was  only  offeruig  to  turn  the 
stone  for  you  if  you  've  anything  to  grind." 

"  I  have  n't.  If  I  wanted  the  consent  of  the 
majority  I  could  buy  it,  —  buy  it  if  I  had  shot  the 
maniac  instead  of  letting  him  shoot  me." 

"  Possibly  ;  and  yet  you  could  n't  buy  any  fraction 
of  it  that  is  worth  having,"  Lansdale  asserted,  with 
conviction.  "  There  are  a  few  people  left  who  have 
not  bowed  the  head  in  the  house  of  Eimmon." 

The  cynical  hardness  went  out  of  Jeffard's  eye 
and  lip,  and  for  the  first  time  since  the  proletary's 
reincarnation,  Lansdale  fancied  he  got  a  brief  glimpse 
of  the  man  he  had  known  in  the  day  of  sincerity. 

"  A  few,  yes ;  the  Elliotts,  father  and  daughter, 


THE   HELPERS  321 

for  two,  you  would  say.  I  wonder  if  you  could  help 
me  there." 

"  To  their  good  opinion  ?  —  my  dear  Jeffard,  I  'm 
no  professional  conscience-keeiier !  " 

"  No,  I  did  n't  mean  that.  What  I  had  in  mind 
is  a  much  simpler  thing.  A  year  ago  Miss  Elliott 
gave  me  of  her  abundance.  She  meant  it  as  a  gift, 
though  I  made  it  a  loan  and  repaid  the  principal  — 
when  I  was  able  to.  But  I  am  still  in  her  debt. 
Measured  by  consequences,  which  are  the  only  true 
interest-table,  the  earnings  of  her  small  investment 
are  hardly  to  be  computed  in  dollars  and  cents. 
Naturally,  she  won't  take  that  view  of  it,  but  that 
does  not  cancel  my  obligation.  Will  you  help  me 
to  discharge  it?     They  need  money." 

Lansdale  let  the  appeal  simmer  in  the  pot  of  re- 
flection. His  inclination  was  to  refuse  to  be  drawn 
into  any  such  entanglement ;  but  the  opportunity  to 
lessen  by  ever  so  Httle  the  burdens  of  the  woman  he 
loved  was  not  to  be  lightly  set  aside.  None  the 
less,  the  thing  seemed  impossible. 

"  I  'm  afraid  it 's  too  big  for  me,  Jeffard ;  I 
should  n't  know  how  to  go  about  it.  Don't  mis- 
understand me.  I  should  n't  stick  at  the  necessary 
equivocations ;  but  if  you  know  Miss  Elliott  you 
must  know  that  Machiavelli  himself  couldn't  be 
m  sincere  with  her.  She  would  have  to  be  told  the 
truth,  and  " — 

He  left  the  sentence  incomplete,  and  Jeffard  took 
it  up  at  the  break. 

"  And  if  she  should  acknowledge  my  obligation  — 


322  THE   HELPERS 

which  she  would  not  —  she  would  refuse  to  be  reim- 
bursed out  of  Garvin's  money.  That  is  why  I 
have  n't  sent  her  a  note  with  a  check  in  it.  Will 
you  have  another  cup  of  tea  ?  " 

Lansdale  took  the  query  as  a  dismissal  of  the 
subject  and  pushed  back  his  chair.  On  the  way  out 
they  passed  a  late  incomer ;  a  florid  man,  with  a 
nervous  step  and  the  eye  of  preoccupation.  He 
nodded  to  Lansdale  in  passing,  and  Jeffard  said, 
"  Do  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  it 's  Finchly,  —  Jolm  Murray's  man  of 
business." 

Jeffard  had  apparently  relapsed  into  the  deeper 
depths  of  cjoiicism  again. 

"  Yes,  I  know.  That 's  the  charitable  euphemism. 
Murray  is  a  day  laborer,  transmogrified  by  a  lucky 
strike  into  a  millionaire.  He  does  n't  know  enough 
to  write  his  own  name,  much  less  how  to  keep  a 
great  fortune  from  dissolving,  so  he  hires  a  manager. 
It  was  a  happy  thought.     What  does  Finchly  get  ?  " 

Lansdale  laughed.     "  A  good  living,  doubtless." 

"  Of  course ;  and  much  more,  with  the  pickings. 
But  there  is  a  salary  which  is  supposed  to  be  the 
consideration,  is  n't  there  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  :  and  the  figure  of  it  varies  with  the 
imagination  of  the  gossips  from  ten  to  fifty  thousand 
a  year." 

Jeffard  stopped  to  relight  his  cigar,  and  Lansdale 
fancied  that  the  Finchly  query  went  out  with  the 
spent  match.  But  Jeffard  revived  it  a  square  far- 
ther on. 


THE   HELPERS  323 

"  Suppose  we  assume,  for  the  sake  of  argument, 
that  the  man  has  a  conscience.  How  much  could  he 
justly  take  for  the  service  rendered?" 

They  were  at  the  entrance  of  the  "Coloradoan" 
building,  and  Lansdale  took  out  his  notebook  and 
made  a  memorandum. 

"  That  is  good  for  a  column,"  he  said ;  " '  The 
Moral  Responsibility  of  Millionaire-Managers.'  I  '11 
answer  your  question  later,  when  I  've  had  time  to 
think  it  over." 

"  But,  seriously,"  Jeffard  insisted.  "Is  it  worth 
ten  thousand  a  year  ?  —  or  the  half  of  it  ?  The 
man  is  only  a  cashier,  —  a  high-class  accountant  at 
best." 

"  Finchly  is  much  more  than  that ;  he  is  Murray's 
brain  as  well  as  liis  pen-hand.  But  if  he  were  only 
a  money-counter,  a  money-counter's  salary  would  be 
enough ;  say  two  or  three  thousand  a  year,  to  be 
Uberal." 

Jeffard  nodded  and  was  turning  away;  had  in 
fact  taken  three  steps  streetward,  when  he  came 
back  to  return  to  the  subject  dropped  at  the  supper 
table  as  though  there  had  been  no  hiatus. 

"  You  were  going  to  say  she  would  refuse  to  take 
Garvin's  money,  and  I  said  it  for  you.  Would  it 
make  it  any  easier  if  I  can  assure  you  that  the 
money  I  shall  put  in  your  hands  is  honestly  mine  ? — 
that  James  Garvin  has  no  claim,  ethical  or  otherwise, 
upon  it  ?  Take  time  to  consider  it,  —  with  an  eye 
to  Miss  Elliott's  present  needs  rather  than  to  my 
havings  or  wishes  in  the  matter." 


324  TIIK   HELPERS 

Lansdale  was  off  his  guard,  and  the  human  side 
of  liim  came  uppermost  in  the  swift  rejoinder, — 
"  Then  you  did  n't  tell  me  the  whole  truth  ?  The 
ISIidas  is  honestly  yours,  after  all?" 

Jeffard  turned  away  and  snapped  the  ash  from 
his  cigar.  "  Don't  jump  at  conclusions,"  he  said. 
"  It 's  always  safer  to  go  on  voting  with  the  majority. 
What  I  said  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  story  of  the 
man  and  his  temptation ;  but  the  meanest  laborer  is 
worthy  of  his  hire.  I  worked  all  winter  with  pick 
and  shovel  in  the  Midas.     Good-night." 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

It  was  early  in  June  when  the  pneumatic  driU 
in  the  Little  Myriad  was  smashed  by  a  premature 
blast,  and  the  master  of  the  mine  was  constrained 
to  make  a  flying  trip  to  Denver  to  replace  it.  As 
a  matter  of  course,  if  not,  indeed,  of  necessity,  Myra 
went  mth  hun.  They  traveled  by  the  night  train, 
breakfasted  on  canned  viands  out  of  the  Pulhnan 
buffet,  and  so  took  Constance  by  surprise. 

Myra  had  projects  in  view,  some  Utopian  and 
others  more  Utopian,  with  her  relatives  for  nuclei ; 
and  when  Richard  the  untactful  had  been  sent 
about  his  machinery  business,  she  settled  down  for 
a  persuasive  day  with  Constance.  Now  Constance 
had  been  taken  unawares,  but  she  was  of  those  who 
fight  best  at  a  disadvantage,  and  the  end  of  the  day 
found  the  Utopian  projects  still  in  air,  being  held 
in  suspension  by  an  obstinate  young  person  who 
steadily  refused  to  make  of  lierseK  a  vessel  meet  for 
condolence  and  cousmly  beneficence. 

"  It 's  no  use,  cuzzy  dear ;  you  shall  have  an  op- 
tion on  the  help  stock  when  there  is  any  for  sale, 
but  at  present  there  are  no  quotations." 

Thus  Connie,  at  the  very  end  of  the  persuasive 
day.  Upon  which  the  young  wife,  with  patience 
outwearing  or  outworn,  retorts  smartly  :  — 


326  THE   HELPERS 

"•  I  suppose  you  think  it 's  heroic  —  your  living  like 
this ;  but  it  is  n't.  It  is  just  plain  poverty  pride, 
which  is  all  well  enough  to  keejD  the  crowd  out,  but 
which  is  simply  wicked  when  it  makes  you  shut  the 
door  in  our  faces.  Think  of  it  —  you  living  here  in 
three  rooms  at  the  top  of  a  block  when  the  IMyriad 
has  begun  to  pay  dividends !  I  did  n't  mean  to  tell 
you  just  yet,  but  Dick  is  going  to  buy  back  the 
Colfax  Avenue  house,  and  it  shall  stand  empty  till 
doomsday  if  you  won't  go  and  live  in  it." 

In  times  not  long  past  Connie  would  have  re- 
turned railing  for  railing  —  with  interest  added  ; 
but  the  reproaclifid  day  had  been  no  less  trying 
to  her  than  to  Myra,  and  the  poverty  fight  —  and 
some  others  —  were  sore  upon  her.  Hence  her  dis- 
clauner  was  of  courageous  meekness,  with  a  smile 
of  loving  appreciation  to  pave  the  way. 

"  I  hope  Dick  will  do  no  such  preposterous  thing 
—  unless  you  want  it  for  yourselves.  You  know  it 
would  be  quite  out  of  the  question  for  us  to  take  it. 
Or  to  do  anything  but  make  the  best  of  what  has 
happened,"  she  added. 

Myra  was  standing  at  a  window,  looking  down 
into  the  street  where  the  early  dusk  was  beginning 
to  prick  out  the  point-like  coruscations  of  the  arc- 
lights.  There  was  that  in  Connie's  eyes  which  beck- 
oned tears  to  eyes  sj^mpathetic ;  and  she  found  it 
easier  to  go  on  with  her  back  turned  upon  the  room 
and  its  other  occupant. 

"  To  make  the  best  of  it,  yes  ;  but  you  are  not 
making  the  best  of  it.   Or,  if  you  are,  the  best  is  mis- 


THE   HELPERS  327 

erably  bad.  You  are  looking  thin  and  wretched,  as 
if  —  as  if  you  did  n't  get  enough  to  eat." 

There  was  a  touch  of  the  old-time  resilience  in 
Connie's  laugh.  "  How  can  you  tell  when  you  're 
not  looking  at  me  ?  Indeed,  it  has  n't  come  to  that 
yet.  We  have  enough,  and  a  little  to  spare  for 
those  who  have  less." 

Myra  had  been  searching  earnestly  all  day  for 
some  little  rift  into  which  the  wedge  of  helpfulness 
might  be  driven,  and  here  was  an  opening  —  of 
the  vicarious  sort. 

"  Won't  you  let  me  be  your  purseholder  for 
those  who  have  less,  Connie  ?  That  is  the  very 
least  you  can  do." 

Constance  willed  it  thankfully.  After  the  try- 
ing day  of  refusals  it  was  grateful  to  find  something 
that  coidd  be  conceded, 

"I  believe  I  told  you  once  that  I  wouldn't  be 
your  proxy  in  that  way,  did  n't  I  ?  But  I  will,  now. 
You  are  so  much  better  than  your  theories,  Myra." 

Myra  left  the  window  at  that,  wrote  a  generous 
check  before  the  concession  should  have  time  to 
shrink  in  the  cooling,  and  then  went  over  to  sit  on 
the  denim-covered  lounge  with  her  arm  around  her 
cousin's  waist. 

"  Now  that  you  have  begun  to  be  reasonable, 
won't  you  go  a  step  farther,  Connie,  dear  ?  I  know 
there  are  troubles,  —  lots  of  them  besides  the  pinch- 
ing. Can't  you  lean  on  me  just  a  little  bit  ?  I  do 
so  want  to  help  you." 

Connie  did  it  literally,  with  her  face  on  Myra's 


328  THE   HELPERS 

shoulder  and  a  sob  at  the  catching  of  her  breath. 
Myra  let  her  take  her  own  time,  as  a  judicious  com- 
forter will,  and  when  the  words  came  they  wrought 
themselves  into  a  confession. 

"  Oh,  Myra,  I  thought  I  was  so  strong,  and  I  'm 
not ! "  she  wept.  "  The  bullet  in  a  gun  has  n't  less 
to  say  about  where  it  shall  be  sent.  I  said  it  was  n't 
the  pinch,  but  it  is  —  or  part  of  it  is.  Poppa  has 
set  his  heart  upon  trying  the  mountains  again,  old 
as  he  is,  and  he  can't  go  because  —  because  there 
is  n't  money  enough  to  outfit  him  with  what  he 
could  carry  on  his  back  !  " 

"  And  you  would  have  let  me  go  without  telling 
me  !  "  said  Myra  reproachfully.  "  He  shall  have  a 
whole  pack  train  of  '  grub  stake,'  —  is  that  what  I 
should  say  ?  —  and  you  shall  come  and  stay  with  us 
while  he  is  away.  Consider  that  a  trouble  past,  and 
tell  me  some  more.  You  don't  know  how  delicious 
it  is  to  be  permitted  to  pose  as  a  small  god  in  a  car." 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  Connie  responded,  out  of  a  heartful 
of  similar  ecstasies.  "  But  it  is  n't  a  trouble  past : 
he  won't  let  you  do  it.  Everybody  has  been  offer- 
ing to  lend  him  money,  and  he  won't  take  it." 

"  He  will  have  to  take  it  from  me,"  said  MjTa, 
with  prompt  decision.  "  I  '11  make  him.  And  when 
he  goes,  you  will  come  to  us,  won't  you  ?  " 

Constance  looked  up  with  a  smile  shining  through 
the  tears.  "  You  're  good,  Myra,  just  like  Dick ! 
But  I  can't,  you  know.     I  must  stay  here." 

"  Why  must  you  ?  "  To  the  querist  there  seemed 
to  be  sufficiently  good  reasons,  from  the  point  of 


THE   HELPERS  329 

view  of  tlie  proprieties,  for  setting  Connie's  decision 
aside  mandatorily,  but  Myra  had  grown  warier  if  not 
wiser  in  her  year  of  cousin-kenning. 

"  There  are  reasons,  —  duties  which  I  must  not 
shirk." 

"  Are  they  namable  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  Margaret  is  the  name  of  one  of  them." 

Myra's  disapproval  found  vent  in  gentle  foot- 
tappings.  To  the  moderately  compassionate  on- 
looker it  would  seem  that  Constance  had  long  since 
filled  that  measure  of  responsibility,  —  filled  and 
heaped  it  to  overflowing.  But  again  the  experienced 
one  was  discreet. 

"  As  Dick  would  put  it,  you  have  '  angeled  '  Mar- 
garet for  a  year  and  more.  Is  n't  she  yet  able  to 
stand  alone?  " 

Connie's  answer  was  prompt  and  decisive.  "  Quite 
as  well  able  as  the  best  of  us  would  be  under  similar 
conditions." 

"  I  would  n't  make  it  conditional ;  but  we  've 
never  been  able  to  keep  step  in  that  journey.  Why 
is  Margaret's  case  exceptional  ?  " 

"  Did  I  say  it  was  ?  It  is  n't.  She  is  just  one 
of  any  number  of  poor  girls  who  are  trying  to  live 
honestly,  with  the  barriers  of  innocence  all  down 
and  an  overwhelming  temptation  always  beckoning." 

Myra  shook  her  head.  "  That  is  making  tempta- 
tion a  constraint,  when  it  can  never  be  more  than  a 
lure.  I  must  confess  I  can't  get  far  enough  away 
from  the  conventional  point  of  view  to  understand 
how  a  young  woman  like  Margaret,  who  has  been 


330  THE   HELPERS 

lifted  and  carried  and  set  fairly  upon  her  feet,  coidd 
be  tempted  to  go  back  to  the  utter  misery  and 
dejn'adation  of  the  other  life." 

Constance  spoke  first  to  the  sophism,  and  then  to 
the  particidar  instance. 

"  It  is  not  true  that  temptation  is  always  a  lure. 
It  is  oftener  a  constraint.  And  you  say  you  can't 
understand.  It  is  terribly  simple.  They  sin  first 
for  a  thing  which  they  mistake  for  love ;  but  after 
that  it  is  for  bread  and  meat,  and  surcease  from  toil 
which  has  become  a  mere  frenzied  struggle  to  keep 
body  and  soid  together.  You  don't  know  what  it  is 
to  be  poor,  Myra,  —  with  the  barriers  down.  Have 
you  any  idea  how  much  Margaret  earned  last  week, 
working  steadily  the  six  days  and  deep  into  the 
nights  ?  " 

"  Oh,  not  very  much,  I  suppose.  But  her  neces- 
sities are  not  large." 

"  Are  they  not  ?  They  are  as  large  as  yours  or 
mine.  She  must  eat  and  drink  and  have  a  bed  to 
sleep  on  and  clothes  to  cover  her.  And  to  provide 
these  she  was  paid  three  dollars  and  eighty-five  cents 
for  her  week's  work  ;  and  two  dollars  of  that  had  to 
go  for  rent.  Is  the  temptation  a  lure  or  a  constramt 
in  her  case  ?  " 

Myra  was  silenced,  if  not  convinced,  and  she  went 
back  to  the  fact  existent  with  sympathy  no  more 
than  seemingly  aloof. 

"  You  hinted  at  Margaret's  peculiar  besetment  in 
one  of  your  letters.  Is  that  what  you  have  to  stay 
and  fight  ?  " 


THE   HELPERS  331 

Constance  nodded  assent. 

"  I  have  been  hoping  you  were  mistaken.  Dick 
is  still  loyally  incredulous.  Is  n't  there  a  chance 
that  you  or  Tommie,  or  both  of  you,  have  taken  too 
much  for  granted  ?  " 

Connie's  "  No  "  was  ahuost  inaudible,  and  there 
was  chastened  sorrow  in  her  voice  when  she  went  on 
to  tell  how  Tommie  had  seen  Jeffard  and  Margaret 
together,,  not  once,  but  many  times  ;  how  the  man 
was  always  persuading,  and  the  woman,  reluctant  at 
first,  was  visibly  yielding ;  how  within  a  week  Tom- 
mie had  seen  Jeffard  give  her  money. 

"And  she  took  it?"  Myra  queried. 

"  She  did  n't  want  to  take  it.  Tommie  says  she 
almost  fought  with  him  to  make  him  take  it  back. 
But  he  would  n't." 

Myra's  sympathy  circled  down,  but  it  alighted 
upon  Connie.  ''  You  poor  dear !  after  all  your 
loving-kindnesses  and  helpings !  It 's  miserable ;  but 
you  can't  do  anything  if  you  stay." 

"  Yes,  I  can.  I  could  n't  stay  alone,  of  course, 
and  she  will  give  up  her  room  and  come  here  to  live 
with  me.  That  wiU  give  me  a  better  hold  on  her 
than  I  have  now." 

"  But  if  you  had  a  hundred  eyes  you  could  n't 
safeguard  her  against  her  will !  " 

"  No  ;  but  it  is  n't  her  will,  —  it 's  his.  And  he 
will  not  come  here." 

Myra's  brows  went  together  in  a  little  frown  of 
righteous  indignation.  "  I  should  hope  not,  —  the 
wi-etch !      You  were  right,  after  all,  Connie,  and  I  'U 


332  THE   HELPERS 

retract  all  the  charitable  things  Dick  wanted  me  to 
say.     lie  is  too  despicahle  "  — 

It  was  Connie's  hand  on  the  accusing  lips  that 
cut  short  the  indignant  arraignment. 

"  Please  don't !  "  she  pleaded.  "  He  is  all  that 
3'ou  can  say  or  think,  but  my  ears  are  weary  with 
my  own  repetitions  of  it." 

Myra  took  the  hand  from  her  lips  and  held  it  fast 
while  she  tried  to  search  her  cousin's  face.  But  the 
gathering  dusk  had  mounted  from  the  level  of 
the  street  to  that  of  the  upper  room,  and  it  baffled 
the  eye-questioning. 

"  Connie  Elliott !  I  more  than  half  believe  "  — 
She  stopped  abruptly,  as  if  there  had  been  some 
dumb  protest  of  the  imprisoned  hand,  and  then  went 
on  wdth  a  swift  change  from  accusation  to  gentle 
reproach.  "I  believe  you  have  only  just  begun  to 
tell  me  your  troubles,  —  and  I  've  been  with  you  all 
day !      What  are  some  more  of  them?  " 

"  I  have  told  jou  the  worst  of  them,  —  or  at  least 
that  part  of  them  which  makes  it  impossible  for  me 
to  go  away.  But  there  is  another  reason  why  I 
ought  to  stay." 

"  Is  that  one  namable,  too  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  perhaps  you  won't  understand.  And 
you  will  be  sure  to  tell  me  it  is  n't  proper.  I  think 
one  of  Mr.  Lansdale's  few  pleasures  is  his  coming 
here." 

"  Few  remaining  pleasures,  you  would  say,  if  you 
were  not  too  tender-hearted.     Is  it  wise,  Connie  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  —  if  it  is  a  comfort  to  him  ?  " 


THE   HELPERS  333 

Myra  hesitated,  not  because  she  had  nothing  to 
say,  but  because  she  knew  not  how  to  say  the  thing 
demanded. 

"  You  have  n't  given  me  leave  to  be  quite  frank 
with  you,  Connie.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  your 
kindness  in  this  case  is  —  is  mistaken  kindness." 

Constance's  rejoinder  was  merely  an  underthought 
slipping  the  leash.  "  It  is  not  to  be  expected  that 
any  one  would  understand,"  she  said. 

"  But  I  do  understand,"  Myra  asserted,  tliis  time 
with  better  confidence.  "  I  'm  not  suj)posed  to  have 
the  slightest  inkling  of  your  feelings,  —  you  've  never 
lisped  a  word  to  me,  —  but  Mr.  Lansdale's  motives 
are  plain  enough  to  be  read  in  the  dark.  If  he 
were  a  well  man  he  would  have  asked  you  to  marry 
him  long  ago." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  said  Constance  haK  absently. 
"  I  'm  not  so  sure  about  that.  He  is  far  away  from 
home  and  wretchedly  ill ;  and  he  has  many  acquain- 
tances and  few  real  friends." 

"  But  he  loves  you,"  Myra  persisted. 

"He  has  never  said  anything  like  that  to  me." 

"  It  is  quite  possible  that  he  never  wiU,  in  view 
of  the  insurmountable  obstacle." 

"  His  iU-health,  you  mean  ?  Myra,  dear,  you 
surely  know  love  better  than  that  —  now.  Love  is 
the  one  thing  which  will  both  sow  and  reap  even  in 
the  day  when  the  heavens  are  of  brass  and  the  earth 
is  a  barren  desert." 

The  under-roar  of  traffic  in  the  street  made  the 
silence  in  the  upper  room  more  effective  by  contrast ; 


334  THE   HELPERS 

like  the  sense  of  isolation  which  is  often  sharpest 
in  a  jostling  throng.  Myra  rose  and  went  to  the 
window  again,  coming  back  presently  to  stand  over 
Constance  and  say,  "  I  suppose  it  is  ordained  that 
you  should  be  a  martyr  to  somebody  or  something, 
Connie,  dear ;  and  when  the  time  comes  I  'm  not 
going  to  say  you  nay,  because  I  think  you  will  be 
happier  that  way.  If  Mr.  Lansdale  should  be 
temjited  to  say  that  which  I  am  sure  he  has  deter- 
mined not  to  say,  is  your  answer  ready?" 

Connie's  hands  were  clasped  over  one  knee,  and 
the  poise  was  of  introspective  beatitude.  But  the 
answer  to  Myi'a's  query  was  not  irrelevant. 

"  He  is  the  truest  of  gentlemen  ;  what  would  your 
answer  be,  Mjo-a  ?  " 

It  was  the  young  wife  in  Myra  Bartrow,  that 
precious  bit  of  clay  as  yet  plastic  under  the  hand  of 
the  master-potter,  that  prompted  the  steadfast  reply. 

"  If  I  loved  him  as  I  ought,  I  shoidd  pray  God  to 
make  me  unselfish  enough  to  say  yes,  Connie." 

"  So  should  I,"  said  Constance  simply ;  and  Myra 
made  the  lighting  of  the  lamp  an  excuse  for  the 
diversion  which  the  three  soft-spoken  words  de- 
manded. And  when  she  went  back  to  the  matter  of 
fact,  she  touched  lightly  upon  what  she  conceived  to 
be  a  wound  yet  far  from  healing. 

"  You  have  silenced  me,  Connie,  but  I  can  at  least 
provide  for  the  contingency.  If  the  event  shapes 
itself  so  that  you  are  free  to  come  to  us,  don't  let 
Margaret  stand  in  the  way.  Bring  her  with  you, 
and  we  '11  find  room  and  work  for  her." 


THE  HELPERS  335 

Connie's  eyei?  were  shining,  but  there  was  a  loving 
smile  struggling  with  the  tears.  "  I  said  you  were 
good,  like  Dick,  Myra,  dear,  and  I  can't  put  it  any 
stronger.  If  I  don't  take  you  at  your  word,  it  will 
not  be  for  anything  you  have  left  unsaid.  Is  n't 
that  Dick  coining  ?  " 

It  was.  There  was  a  double  step  in  the  corridor, 
and  Bartrow  came  in  with  Stephen  Elliott.  Since 
the  battle  persuasive  with  the  daughter  had  kept  her 
single-eyed,  Myra  had  had  but  brief  glimpses  of  the 
father  during  the  day ;  but  now  she  remarked  that 
his  step  was  a  little  less  firmly  planted  than  it  had 
been  in  that  holiday  time  when  he  had  played  the 
unwonted  part  of  escort  in  ordinary  to  two  young 
women  who  had  dragged  him  whither  they  would,  — 
and  whither  he  would  not.  Moreover,  there  was 
the  look  of  the  burden-bearer  in  his  eyes,  though 
their  fire  was  undimmed ;  and  an  air  of  belated 
sprightliness  in  his  manner  which  went  near  to 
Myra's  heart,  because  she  knew  it  came  of  conscious 
effort.  These  jottings  and  others,  the  added  stoop 
of  the  shoulders,  and  the  lagging  haK-step  to  the 
rear  in  entering,  as  of  one  who  may  no  longer  keep 
pace  with  younger  men,  Myra  made  while  Dick  was 
timing  the  dash  for  their  train. 

"  Thirty-five  minutes  more,  and  we  '11  quit  you,  — 
say.  Uncle  Steve,  that  clock  of  yours  is  slow,  — 
that 's  half  an  hour  for  supper,  and  five  minutes  for 
the  yum-yums  at  the  car-step.  Gear  yourselves,  you 
two,  and  we  '11  all  go  and  make  a  raid  on  the  supper- 
room  at  the  station." 


336  THE   HELPERS 

"■  Indeed,  we  sha'n't,"  said  Connie,  in  hospitable 
protest.  "  You  are  going  to  eat  bread  and  butter 
and  drink  strong  tea  on  the  top  floor  of  the  Thorson 
Block.  I  've  had  the  water  cooking  for  an  hour,  and 
you  sha'n't  make  me  waste  gasoline  in  any  such  way." 

Dick  woidd  have  argued  the  point  with  her ;  was, 
in  fact,  beginning  the  counter-protest,  when  Myra 
stopped  him. ' 

"  Of  course  we  '11  stay,"  she  assented.  "  You  go 
with  Connie  and  help  make  the  tea,  Dick.  I  have  n't 
begim  to  have  a  visit  with  Uncle  Stephen  yet." 

Bartrow  gave  up  the  fight  and  was  led  captive  of 
the  small  one  to  the  room  across  the  corridor  which 
served  as  a  kitchen.  Left  alone  with  his  sister's 
daughter,  Stephen  Elliott  had  a  sudden  return  of  the 
haltingnesses  which  the  Philadelphia  niece,  newly 
arrived,  used  to  insj)ire  ;  but  Myra  asked  only  for 
an  acquiescent  listener. 

"  Uncle  Stephen,"  she  began,  pinning  him  in  the 
lounge-corner  from  which  there  was  no  jjossibility  of 
escape,  "  I  've  been  wanting  to  get  at  you  all  day,  and 
I  was  afraid  you  wei'e  n't  going  to  give  me  a  chance. 
You  have  '  grub-staked '  a  lot  of  ijeojjle,  fij'st  and 
last,  have  n't  you  ?  " 

The  old  man  eyed  her  suspiciously  for  a  moment, 
and  then  evidently  banished  the  suspicion  as  a  thing 
unworthy. 

"  Why,  yes ;  I  have  staked  a  good  few  of  them, 
first  and  last,  as  you  say." 

"  I  knew  it,  and  I  wanted  to  ask  a  question.  How 
much  money  did  you  usually  give  them  ?  " 


THE   HELPERS  337 

The  suspicion  was  well  lulled  by  this  ;  and  finding 
himself  upon  familiar  ground,  the  pioneer  went  into 
details. 

"  That  depended  a  good  deal  upon  the  other  fellow. 
Some  of  them — most  of  'em,  I  was  going  to  say  — 
could  n't  be  trusted  with  money  at  all,  and  I  'd  go 
buy  them  an  outfit  and  stay  with  them  till  they  got 
out  o'  range  of  the  saloons  and  green  tables." 

"  But  when  you  found  one  whom  you  could  trust, 
how  much  money  did  you  give  him  ?  I  'm  not  idly 
curious  ;  I  know  a  man  who  wants  to  go  prospecting, 
and  I  have  promised  to  '  stake '  him." 

The  suspicion  raised  its  head  again,  and  was 
promptly  clubbed  into  submission.  Some  one  of 
the  Myriad  men  wanted  to  try  his  luck,  and  he  had 
"  braced  "  the  wife  rather  than  the  husband.  So 
thought  the  pioneer,  and  made  answer  accordingly. 

"  I  woidd  n't  monkey  with  it,  if  I  were  you,  Myra ; 
leastwise,  not  without  letting  Dick  into  it.  He  's 
right  on  the  ground,  and  he  '11  tell  you  how  much 
you  'd  ought  to  2:)ut  up  ;  or  —  what 's  more  likely  — 
if  you  oughtn't  to  teU  the  fellow  to  stick  to  his  day- 
pay  in  the  mine." 

"  Dick  knows,"  said  Myra,  anticipating  the  exact 
truth  by  some  brief  hour  or  so,  "  and  he  's  quite 
willing.  But  you  know  Dick  ;  if  I  should  leave  it 
with  him  he  would  give  the  man  all  he  had  and  go 
and  borrow  for  himself.  I  want  a  good  sober  con- 
servative opinion,  —  not  too  conservative,  you  know, 
but  just  about  what  you  would  need  if  you  were  go- 
ing out  yourself." 


;538  THK    HELPERS 

Elliott  became  dubitaiitly  letteutive,  being  divided 
between  a  desire  to  spare  Myra's  purse  and  a  dis- 
position born  of  fellow-feelings  to  make  it  as  easy  as 
might  be  for  the  unknown  beneficiary. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  at  lengih.  "  If 
the  fellow  is  going  by  himself,  he  won't  need  much ; 
but  if  he  takes  a  partner  it  '11  just  about  double  the 
stake.     Is  he  going  to  play  it  alone? " 

Myra  could  see  through  the  open  door  into  the 
adjoining  room,  and  she  saw  Connie  bringing  in 
the  tea.  Time  was  growing  precious,  if  the  con- 
clusion were  not  to  be  tripped  up  by  an  inter- 
ruption. 

"  I  suppose  he  '11  take  a  partner ;  they  always  do, 
don't  they  ?  Anyway,  I  want  to  make  it  enough  so 
that  he  can  if  he  chooses.  Please  tell  me  how 
much." 

"  Well,  if  he  luiows  how  to  cut  the  corners  and 
how  to  outfit  so  as  to  make  the  most  of  what  he  has, 
he  'd  ought  to  be  able  to  do  it  on  a  couple  of  hun- 
dred or  so.  But  I  don't  laiow  if  that  ain't  pretty 
liberal,"  he  added,  as  if  upon  second  thought. 

Myra  went  quickly  to  the  table  under  the  lamp, 
and  wrote  upon  a  slip  of  paper.  Elliott  thought 
she  was  making  a  note  of  her  information ;  and 
when  she  put  the  check  into  his  hands  he  took  it 
mechanically.  But  her  hurried  explanation  drove 
the  firing-pin  of  intelligence. 

"  It 's  for  you  —  you  are  the  man.  Uncle  Stephen  ; 
and  if  it  is  n't  enough,  it 's  your  own  fault."  She 
said  it  with  one  eye  on  the  two  in  the  next  room. 


THE  HELPERS  339 

aiul  with  nerves  taut-braeed  for  the  shock  of  refusal. 
The  shock  came  promptly. 

"Oh  —  say  —  here!  Myra,  girl;  I  can't  take 
tliis  from  you ! "  He  was  on  his  feet,  trying  to  give 
back  the  check ;  and  as  she  eluded  him  he  followed 
her  about  the  room,  protesting  as  he  went.  "  It 's 
just  like  you  to  offer  it,  but  I  can't,  don't  you  see  ? 
I  "11  rope  somebody  else  in ;  somebody  that  knows 
the  chances.  Here,  take  it  back,  —  I'm  getting 
pretty  old,  and  just  as  like  as  not  I  won't  find 
anytliing  worth  assaying.  Come,  now;  you  be  a 
good  girl,  and  "  — 

He  had  driven  her  into  a  corner,  and  it  was  time 
for  the  coii^)  cle  main.  So  she  put  her  arms  about 
his  neck  and  her  face  on  his  shoulder,  and  if  the 
attack  pathetic  were  no  more  than  a  clever  bit  of 
feigning,  Stephen  Elliott  was  none  the  wiser. 

"1  —  I  'd  like  to  know  what  I  have  done  !  "  she 
quavered.  "  You  'd  take  it  from  a  stranger  —  you 
said  you  woidd  —  and  you  've  made  me  just  the 
same  as  your  own  daughter,  and  now  you  wo — won't 
let  me  do  the  first  little  thing  I  've  ever  had  a 
chance  to  do !  " 

There  were  more  strong  solvents  of  a  similar 
nature  in  reserve,  but  they  were  not  needed.  The 
good  old  man  was  helplessly  soluble  in  any  woman's 
tears,  real  or  invented ;  and  his  fine  resolution 
melted  and  the  bones  of  it  became  as  water. 

"  There,  there,  little  girl ,  don't  you  take  on  like 
that.  I  'U  keep  it.  See  ?  I  've  chucked  it  right 
down    into   the    bottom   of    my   pocket "  —  he    was 


340  THE   HELPERS 

stroking  her  hair  and  otherwise  gentling  her  as  if 
she  were  a  hurt  ehikl.  "  Don't  you  fret  a  little  bit. 
I  '11  spend  it  —  every  last  cent  of  it  —  just  the  way 
you  want  me  to.  You  must  n't  cry  another  tear ; 
Dick  '11  think  I  've  been  abusing  you,  and  he  '11  fii'e 
the  old  uncle  out  of  one  of  these  high  windows. 
Have  n't  you  got  any  handkerchief  ?  " 

Connie  and  Dick  were  at  the  door,  announcing 
the  bread  and  butter  and  tea,  and  Myra's  handker- 
chief became  a  convenient  mask  for  the  moment. 
A  less  simple-hearted  man  than  the  old  pioneer 
might  have  suspected  the  sincerity  of  such  tears  as 
may  be  wiped  away  at  a  word,  leaving  no  trace 
behind  them ;  but  Elliott  was  too  child-like  to  know 
aught  of  the  fine  art  of  dissimulation,  and  he  took 
Myra's  sudden  return  to  cheerfulness  as  a  tribute  to 
his  own  astuteness  in  yielding  a  point  at  the  critical 
moment. 

At  the  tea-table  they  were  all  more  or  less  hilari- 
ous, each  having  somewhat  to  conceal  from  the 
others ;  and  even  Bartrow  was  made  to  feel  the 
thinness  of  the  ice  upon  which  the  trivialities  were 
skating.  Much  to  Connie's  surprise,  the  tactless 
one  developed  unsuspected  resources  of  adroitness 
in  keeping  the  table-talk  at  concert-pitch  of  levity ; 
and  she  forgave  him  when  he  was  brutal  enough  to 
make  a  jest  of  the  simple  meal,  giving  the  bread 
and  butter  a  new  name  with  each  asking,  and  accus- 
ing her  of  being  in  league  with  the  commissary 
department  of  the  sleeping-car  company.  It  spoke 
volumes  for   Dick's  growth  in  perspicacity  that  he 


THE   HELPERS  341 

was  able  to  discern  the  keen  edge  of  the  crisis 
without  having  actually  seen  the  stone  npon  which 
it  had  been  whetted ;  and  in  the  midst  of  her  own 
fencings  with  the  tensities,  Constance  found  time  to 
wonder  how  Myra  had  wrought  even  the  beginning 
of  such  a  miracle  in  the  downright  one. 

In  such  resolute  ignorings  of  the  moving  realities 
the  supper  interval  was  safely  outworn ;  but  when, 
at  the  end  of  it,  Dick  dragged  out  his  watch  and 
called  "time,"  Constance  found  her  tea  too  hot, 
and  the  drinking  of  it  brought  tears  to  her  eyes. 
Whereupon  the  brutal  one  made  an  exaggerated 
pretense  of  sympathy,  offering  her  a  handkerchief ; 
and  the  laugh  saved  them  all  until  the  good-bys 
were  said,  and  the  guests,  with  Elliott  to  speed  their 
parting,  had  gone  to  the  station. 

Constance  stood  in  the  empty  corridor  until  the 
farther  stair  ceased  to  echo  their  footsteps.  The 
day-long  strain  was  off  at  last,  and  she  meant  to  go 
quickly  and  clear  off  the  table  and  wash  the  supper 
dishes,  to  the  end  that  the  reaction  might  not  over- 
whehn  her.  But  on  the  way  she  stopped  at  the 
little  square  table  in  the  larger  room  and  took  a 
letter  from  its  hiding  place  at  the  back  of  a  framed 
photograph.  It  was  a  double  inclosure  in  an  out- 
side envelope  which  bore  the  business  card  of  a  well 
known  legal  firm ;  and  the  wrapping  of  the  inner 
envelope  was  a  note  on  the  firm's  letter-head,  stat- 
ing in  terse  phrase  that  the  inclosed  letter  had  been 
foimd  under  the  door  of  an  unoccupied  house  in 
Colfax  Avenue  by  the  writer  in  the  early  smmner 


342  THE   HELPERS 

of  the  previous  year  ;  that  it  had  been  mislaid  ;  and 
that  it  was  now  forwarded  with  many  regrets  for  its 
unintentional  suppression. 

Constance  read  the  note  mechanically,  as  she  had 
read  it  the  day  before  when  the  postman  had 
brought  it.  It  explained  nothing  more  than  the 
mere  fact  of  delay,  but  she  miderstood.  The  writer 
of  the  lost  letter,  or  his  messenger,  had  thrust  it 
under  the  door  of  the  wrong  house. 

She  laid  the  note  aside  and  tilted  the  envelope  to 
let  a  coin  fall  into  her  palm.  It  was  a  double-eagle 
piece,  little  worn,  but  the  memories  which  clustered 
about  its  giving  and  taking  seemed  to  dull  the  lus- 
tre of  the  yellow  metal.  It  was  the  jDrice  of  sorrow- 
ful humiliation,  no  whit  less  to  the  man  who  had 
taken  than  to  the  woman  who  had  given  it.  She 
put  it  that  way  in  an  inflexible  determination  to  be 
just.  Truly,  his  acceptance  of  it  was  a  thing  to  be 
remembered  with  cheek-burnings  of  shame ;  but  she 
would  not  hold  herself  blameless.  In  the  light  of 
that  which  his  letter  disclosed,  her  charitable  im- 
pulse became  a  sword  to  slay  the  last  remnant  of 
manly  pride  and  self-respect  —  if  any  remnant  there 
were. 

She  opened  the  letter  and  re-read  it  to  the  end, 
going  back  from  the  scarcely  legible  signature  to  a 
paragraph  in  the  midst  of  it  that  bade  fair  to  grave 
itself  ineffaceably  upon  her  heart. 

"  You  may  remember  that  I  said  I  could  n't  tell 
you  the  truth,  because  it  concerns  a  woman.  AA'hen 
I  add  that  the  woman  is  yourself,  you  will  under- 


THE   HELPERS  343 

stand.  I  love  you ;  I  think  I  have  been  loving  you 
ever  since  that  evening  which  you  said  we  were 
to  forget  —  the  evening  at  the  theatre.  Strangely 
enough,  my  love  for  you  is  n't  strong  in  the  strength 
which  saves.  I  went  from  you  that  night  when 
you  had  bidden  me  God-speed  at  Mrs.  Cahnaine's, 
and  within  the  hour  I  was  once  more  a  penniless 
vagabond. 

"  When  you  were  trying  to  help  me  this  after- 
noon, I  was  trying  to  keep  from  saying  that  which 
I  cotdd  never  have  a  right  to  say.  You  pressed  me 
very  hard  in  your  sweet  innocence  "... 

She  sat  down  and  the  letter  slipped  from  her 
fingers.  The  hurt  was  a  year  in  the  past,  but  time 
had  not  yet  dulled  the  pain  of  it.  Not  to  any 
human  soul,  nor  yet  to  her  own  heart,  had  she 
admitted  the  one  living  fact  which  stood  unshaken  ; 
which  woidd  stand,  like  some  polished  corner-stone 
of  a  ruined  temple,  when  all  else  should  have 
crumbled  into  dust.  For  which  cause  she  sat  with 
clasped  hands  and  eyes  that  saw  not ;  eyes  that 
were  still  deep  wells  and  clear,  but  brimming  with 
the  bitter  waters  of  a  fountain  which  flows  only  for 
thq|e  whose  loss  is  irreparable.  And  while  she  wept, 
the  sorrowful  under-thought  slipped  into  speech. 

"  He  calls  it  love,  but  it  coidd  n't  have  been  that. 
He  says  it  was  n't  strong  in  the  strength  that  saves ; 
and  love  is  always  mighty  to  succor  the  weak- 
hearted.  I  would  have  believed  in  him  —  I  did 
believe  in  him,  only  I  didn't  know  how  to  help. 
But  no  one  could  help  when  he  did  n't  believe  in 


344  THE   HELPERS 

himself ;  and  now  he  is  jnst  drifting,  with  the  cruel 
sword  of  opportunity  loose  in  its  scabbard,  and  all 
the  unspeakable  things  dragging  him  whithersoever 
they  will,  .  .  .  And  he  meant  to  end  it  all  when 
he  wrote  this  letter ;  I  know  he  did.  That  would 
have  been  terrible;  but  it  would  have  been  braver 
than  to  go  on  to  robbery,  and  luifaith,  and  —  and 
now  to  this  last  pitiless  iniquity.  Oh,  I  can't  let  it 
go  on  to  that !  — not  if  I  have  to  go  and  plead  with 
him  for  the  sake  of  that  which  he  once  thought 
was  —  love."  She  went  dowai  upon  her  knees  with 
her  face  hidden  in  the  chair-cushion,  and  the  uncon- 
scious monologue  became  a  passionate  beseeching : 
"  O  God,  help  me  to  be  strong  and  steadfast,  that 
I  may  not  fail  when  I  come  to  stand  between  these 
two ;  for  Thou  knowest  the  secrets  of  the  heart  and 
all  its  weakness  ;  and  Thou  knowest "  — 


CHAPTER   XXX 

The  Bartrows,  with  Stephen  Elliott  to  expedite 
their  oiitsetting-,  caught  their  tram  with  nothing-  to 
spare ;  and  while  the  goggle-eyed  switch-lamps  were 
still  flashing  past  the  windows  of  the  sleeping-car, 
Myra  settled  herself  comfortably  in  her  corner  of 
the  section  and  demanded  the  day's  accoimting. 

Bartrow  was  rummaging  in  the  hand-bag  for  his 
traveling-cap,  and  he  looked  up  with  a  most  trans- 
parent affectation  of  surprise. 

"  Hah  ?  Was  n't  I  supposed  to  be  chasing  around 
all  day  trying  to  buy  a  rock-drill  ?  " 

Myra  ignored  the  skilless  parry  and  thrust  home. 
"  Don't  tease,"  she  said.  "  You  did  beautifully  at 
the  supper-table,  and  I  am  quite  sure  Connie  didn't 
suspect.     But  I  want  to  know  what  has  happened." 

Bartrow  laughed  good  -  naturedly.  "  Same  old 
window-pane  for  you  to  look  through,  am  I  not? 
It 's  lucky  for  me  that  I  'm  a  rattling  good  fellow, 
with  nothing  particular  inside  of  me  to  be  ashamed 
of."  He  was  thumbing  a  collection  of  pocket-worn 
papers,  and  presently  handed  her  a  crisp  bill  of 
exchange  for  five  hundred  and  forty-five  dollars. 
"  What  do  you  think  of  that  for  one  of  the  happen- 
nigs  ? 

She  read  the  figure  of  it  and  the  date.  "  I  don't 
understand,"  she  said.     "Where  did  you  get  it?" 


346  THE  HELPERS 

"  Yon  would  n't  guess  in  a  thousand  years.  It 's 
the  nxouoy  I  borrowed  for  Jeffard  one  fine  mornmg 
last  fall,  with  bank  interest  to  date." 

"  Then  you  have  seen  him  ?  " 

"  Saw  him,  felt  of  his  hand,  and  went  to  luncheon 
with  him." 

"  Dick  !  And  you  really  had  the  courage  to  ask 
him  for  this  ?  " 

Bartrow's  smile  was  a  grimace.  "  Don't  you  sit 
there  and  tempt  me  to  lie  about  it.  You  know 
what  a  fool  I  am  with  a  debtor.  Fortunately,  I 
did  n't  have  to  ask ;  it  came  about  as  most  things  do 
in  this  world  —  click !  buzz  !  boom  !  and  your  infer- 
nal machine  has  exploded.  We  cannoned  against 
each  other  as  I  was  going  into  the  bank  to  get  the 
money  for  the  machinery  man.  After  we  'd  said 
'  Hello,'  and  shook  hands,  Jeffard  went  in  with  me. 
On  the  way  out  the  cashier  stopped  us.  '  Mr.  Jef- 
fard,' says  he,  '  your  personal  account  has  a  credit 
of  five  hundred  dollars  which  does  n't  appear  in  the 
deposits.  If  you  '11  let  me  have  your  book  I  '11 
enter  it.'  'A  credit?  —  of  five  hundred  dollars? 
I  don't  understand,'  says  Jeffard.  '  It 's  all  right,' 
says  the  cashier.  '  It  came  from  the  Carbonate 
City  National,  in  Leadville.  Did  n't  they  notify 
you  ? '  '  No,'  says  Jeffard ;  '  it  must  be  a  mistake. 
I  had  no  credit  in  Leadville.'  All  this  time  the 
cashier  was  digging  into  his  pigeonholes.  '  You 
must  have  had,'  says  he.  '  I  can't  put  mj^  hand  on 
their  letter,  but  as  I  recall  it,  they  said  the  money 
was  a  remittance  made  by  you  sometime  last  year  to 


THE  HELPERS  347 

cover  a  promissory  note.  Wlien  it  reached  them  the 
note  had  matured  and  had  been  lifted.  They  have 
kept  your  money  a  good  while,  but  they  claim  not 
to  have  known  your  address.' " 

Myra  was  listening-  with  something  more  than 
curiosity. 

"  What  did  Mr.  Jeffard  say  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  He  looked  a  good  deal  more  than  he  said ;  and 
what  he  said  was  rather  queer.  When  he  had 
pulled  me  a  little  aside,  he  lit  a  cigar  and  offered 
me  one,  as  cool  as  ice.  '  Of  course,  you  '11  under- 
stand that  this  was  all  prearranged  between  Mr. 
Holburn  and  myself,'  says  he.  '  It  would  be  too 
gi'eat  a  tax  upon  your  credulity  to  ask  you  to 
believe  that  it  is  merely  a  coincidence  ;  that  I  really 
did  send  the  money  to  the  Leadville  bank  to  lift 
that  note  months  ago.'  I  said  No,  and  meant  it ; 
and  he  went  over  to  the  exchange  window  and  made 
out  a  cheok  and  bought  that  draft.  But  after- 
ward I  could  have  kicked  him  for  making  that 
suggestion.  I  coiddn't  break  away  from  it  to  save 
my  life,  and  it  stuck  to  me  straight  through  to  the 
finish." 

"  But  you  went  to  luncheon  with  him  afterward. 
Didn't  he  explain?  " 

"  Not  a  word.  I  tried  my  level  best  to  pull  the 
thing  out  of  the  hole  two  or  three  times,  but  it  was 
buried  too  deep  for  me.  And  somehow  that  idiotic 
sneer  of  his  seemed  to  color  everything  he  said. 
He  seemed  to  take  it  for  granted  that  I  'd  been  set- 
ting him  down  all  these  months  for  a  scalawag,  and 


348  THE  HELPERS 

everything  I  could  say  got  twisted  into  a  slap.  We 
WQi-ried  tluougli  the  meal,  and  the  cigars  after  it, 
in  some  sort  of  thankless  fashion  ;  but  I  would  n't 
do  it  again  for  a  farm." 

Myra  became  reflectively  thoughtful,  and  with  the 
jarring  of  the  car  the  bit  of  money  paper  fell  to  the 
floor.  Dick  recovered  it,  put  it  away,  and  waited 
patiently  for  her  comment.  When  it  came  it  was 
no  more  than  a  leading  question. 

«  What  do  you  make  of  it,  Dick  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  it.  If  I  could 
break  away  from  all  the  things  I  used  to  luiow 
about  him,  I  should  say  he  acts  like  a  man  who  has 
done  something  to  make  him  declare  war  upon 
himself,  and  —  as  a  natural  consequence  —  upon 
everybody  else.  He  seems  to  be  ready  to  fight  at 
the  drop  of  the  hat,  and  that 's  a  bad  symptom." 

"It  is  a  symptom  of  a  guilty  conscience,  is  n't 
it?" 

Bartrow  did  not  answer  at  once.  To  speak  by 
the  fact  was  to  admit  that  all  his  loyal  upholdings 
of  Jeffard  had  been  spent  upon  an  unworthy  object, 
and  he  was  reluctant  in  just  proportion  to  his  loy- 
alty. But  the  fact  was  large  —  too  lai'ge  to  be 
overleaped. 

"  It  is  a  symptom,  yes  ;  and  I  'm  beginning  to  be 
afraid  it 's  a  true  one  in  Jeffard's  case.  I  did  n't 
find  a  soft  spot  in  him  anywhere  till  we  came  to 
speak  of  Lansdale." 

"  They  are  still  friends  ?  " 

"  Y — es,  in  a  way  ;  a  sort  of  give-and-take  way. 


THE   HELPERS  349 

Lansdale  Is  cool  and  pretty  well-calculated  in  his 
friendships  as  in  everything  else  ;  and  I  imagine  he 
forgathers  with  Jeffard  without  prejudice  to  his 
own  private  convictions  in  the  Garvin  affair.  It 's 
a  bit  odd,  but  Jeffard  seems  to  have  most  of  the  re- 
membrances on  his  side." 

"  The  kindly  ones,  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  had  n't  seen  Lansdale  yet,  and  I  asked 
Jeffard  how  he  was  looking.  He  wagged  his  head, 
and  there  was  a  look  in  his  eyes  that  I  'd  seen  there 
more  than  once  in  the  old  days.  '  Unless  there  is 
something  to  be  done  more  than  has  been  tried,  it 's 
only  a  question  of  weeks,'  said  he  ;  and  then  he 
went  back  to  something  I  had  said  that  morning  in 
Leadville  just  before  he  climbed  the  engine  for  the 
race  to  Aspen." 

Myra's  eyebrows  arched  a  query,  and  he  eluci- 
dated. 

"  Did  n't  I  tell  you  ?  We  had  been  talking  about 
Connie,  and  I  had  hinted  that  she  'd  be  willing  to 
buy  health  for  Lansdale  at  a  price  ;  and  he  "  — 

Myra  cut  in  swiftly.  "  Has  she  told  you  that, 
Dick  ?  " 

"  Hardly  ;  but  I  've  eyes,  have  n't  I  ?  Well,  as 
I  was  saying,  Jeffard  went  back  to  that,  and  asked 
if  Lansdale's  recovery  still  meant  as  much  to  Con- 
nie. I  told  him  I  thought  it  meant  rather  more 
than  less ;  and  then  he  went  into  his  shell,  and 
when  he  came  out  it  was  on  the  human  side.  Said 
he  had  money  to  burn  now,  and  asked  if  there  was 
anything  anybody  could  do  to  give  Lansdale  a  bet- 


350  THE   HELPERS 

ter  show  for  his  white  alley.  I  told  him  what  I  'd 
do  if  1  could  break  away  from  the  Myriad." 

"  I  remember ;  you  said  you  would  take  him 
afield." 

"  Yes.  Rig  up  a  team  and  a  camping  outfit,  and 
chase  him  out  into  the  mountains.  Make  him  live 
outdoors  for  a  month  or  two,  and  belt  him  over  the 
head  if  I  ever  caught  him  sharpening  a  lead  pencil. 
He  's  grinding  away  with  Kershaw  nights  and  Sun- 
days, and  trying  to  write  a  novel  between  times. 
It 's  a  clear  case  of  work-to-death." 

Myra  nodded.  "  I  tliink  so  ;  I  have  thought  so 
aU  along.     But  he  wouldn't  go  with  Mr.  Jeffard." 

"  That 's  what  I  thought,  and  what  I  told  Jeffard 
when  he  hinted  at  the  thing.  But  we  were  both  off ; 
and  that  brings  me  to  the  other  happening.  After 
we  'd  smoked  over  it  —  Jeffard  and  I  —  we  went 
aroimd  and  hunted  up  Lansdale's  doctor.  The 
medicine-man  agi'eed  with  me  that  it  was  the  only 
chance,  but  he  did  n't  give  us  much  encouragement. 
Said  it  was  a  forlorn  hope,  with  the  odds  against 
Lansdale  ;  that  he  'd  die  if  he  did  n't  go,  and  would 
probably  die  if  he  did.  Jeffard  had  been  in  and 
out  of  his  sheU  two  or  three  times  since  the  begin- 
ning of  it,  but  he  came  out  again  at  that  and  stayed 
out.  Said  he  owed  Lansdale,  and  that  would  be 
a  good  way  to  wipe  out  the  account.  I  told  him 
that  woidd  n't  go  ;  that  if  he  wanted  to  do  Lansdale 
a  good  turn,  he  'd  have  to  do  it  on  its  merits.  '  I 
sha'n't  be  such  a  fool  as  to  tell  Lansdale  I  "m  try- 
ing to  square  up  with  him,'  says  he.  '  You  go 
and  persuade  him.'  " 


THE   HELPERS  351 

Myra's  hand  was  on  his  knee,  "  You  poor  boy  !  " 
she  said ;  "  they  always  unload  the  thankless  things 
on  you,  don't  they  ?     Did  you  try  ?  " 

"  Sure.  If  I  'd  felt  like  hanging  back,  a  sight 
of  Lansdale  would  have  done  the  business  for  me. 
It 's  awful,  little  woman.  I  've  seen  dead  men,  and 
men  that  were  going  to  die,  but  never  a  dying  one 
that  wanted  so  hard  to  live.  Of  course,  he  kicked 
clear  over  the  traces  when  I  proposed  it,  though  I 
lied  like  a  whitehead,  and  tried  to  make  him  be- 
lieve it  was  my  scheme  to  help  Jeffard  get  cured  of 
his  case  of  mental  and  moral  '  jimmies.'  When 
that  failed,  I  dug  right  down  to  hard-pan.  '  You 
want  to  live,  don't  you  ?  '  said  I,  and  when  he  ad- 
mitted it,  I  biffed  him  square  on  the  point  of  the 
jaw.  Says  I,  '  Then  it 's  a  question  of  your  stiff- 
necked  New  England  pride  against  your  love  for  a 
little  girl  who  would  give  her  right  hand  to  see  you 
well  and  strong,  is  it  ?  You  're  not  as  good  a  man 
as  I  thought  you  were.'  " 

Myra  was  moved  to  protest.  "  Oh,  Dick  !  I  do 
hope  you  have  n't  taken  too  much  for  granted  !  But 
go  on  ;  what  did  he  say?  " 

"  I  thought  he  'd  rise  up  and  fall  on  me  at  first ; 
but  he  did  n't.  He  mumbled  something  about  the 
'  precious  balms  of  a  friend  breaking  his  head,'  and 
said  I  was  altogether  mistaken ;  that  Connie  was 
only  an  angel  of  mercy,  one  of  God's  little  ones,  and 
a  few  other  things  of  that  sort." 

«  '  Only ' !  "  laughed  Myra. 

"  Yes,  '  only.'     But  I  could  see  that  my  shoidder- 


352  THE  HELPERS 

blow  had  knocked  him  out.  lie  switched  the  talk 
to  .Jeffard,  and  pretty  soon  he  was  asking  me  if  I 
really  thought  he  could  do  any  good  in  that  quarter ; 
or  if  my  saying  so  was  merely  a  lie  cut  out  of  whole 
cloth.  I  was  soaked  through  by  that  time,  and 
another  plunge  more  or  loss  did  n't  cut  any  figure, 
so  I  told  him  it  was  n't  a  lie  ;  that  there  was  still 
hope  for  Jeffard  if  any  one  would  lay  hold  of  him 
and  stick  to  him.  '  What  kind*  of  hope,  Dick  ? ' 
says  he.  And  I  said,  '  The  only  kind  that  counts ; 
the  kind  that  '11  make  him  all  through  what  he  is  in 
part.'  He  shook  his  head  at  that,  and  said,  '  I  don't 
know.  That  woidd  mean  repentance  and  restitu- 
tion, —  and  the  money 's  got  its  teeth  into  him  now.' 
I  '11  have  to  admit  that  I  was  arguing  dead  against 
the  probabilities,  and  I  knew  it ;  but  I  would  n't  let 

go." 

Myra's  smile  was  tempered  with  affectionate  pride. 
"You  never  do  let  go.  Did  he  finally  listen  to 
reason?" 

"  Yes,  at  the  end  of  it.  But  if  it  were  six  for 
himself  and  Connie,  it  was  a  good  half-dozen  for 
Jeffard.  '  I  '11  go,  Dick,'  said  he.  '  I  'm  afraid 
your  assumptions  are  all  good-hearted  wishes,  but 
I  '11  go.  Perhaps,  if  it  comes  to  the  worst,  God  will 
give  me  a  man  for  my  leave-taking.'  That  was  a 
new  side  of  him,  to  me  ;  the  Puritan  side,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

"  The  human  side,"  she  amended.  "  It  is  merely 
crusted  a  little  thicker  in  the  Puritan  family." 

"  But  it 's  there,  all  the  same.  Out  here,  where 
the  horizons  and  other  things  are  pretty  wide  open, 


THE   HELPERS  353 

we  're  apt  to  say  what  we  think,  and  pretty  much  all 
of  it ;  but  Lansdale  and  his  kind  think  a  good  bit 
more  and  keep  it  to  themselves.  He 's  all  right. 
I  only  wish  his  getting  well  were  as  sure  as  the 
goodness  o£  him.  Are  you  getting  sleepy  ?  Want 
your  berth  made  down  ?  " 

"  Presently."  Myra  w*s  gazing  out  at  the  night- 
wall  slipping  past  the  car  windows,  and  for  her  the 
thick  blackness  mirrored  a  picture  of  a  sweet-faced 
young  woman  sitting  on  a  denim-covered  lounge, 
with  her  hands  tight  clasped  over  one  knee  and  her 
eyes  alight  with  a  soft  starglow  of  compassion.  And 
because  of  the  picture,  she  said  :  "  I  'm  afraid  you 
did  n't  take  too  much  for  granted,  Dick ;  and  I 
could  almost  wish  it  were  otherwise.  It  is  heart- 
breaking to  think  of  it." 

Dick  went  over  to  a  seat  beside  her,  and  tried  to 
put  himself  as  nearly  as  possible  at  her  point  of  view. 

"  Let 's  not  try  to  cross  their  bridges  for  them 
beforehand,  little  woman,"  he  said,  with  his  lips  at 
her  ear.  "  Life  is  pretty  middling  f uU  for  all  of  us, 
—  for  us  two,  at  any  rate." 

It  was  five  minutes  later,  and  the  train  had  stopped 
for  orders  at  the  canyon  gateway,  when  she  turned 
to  him  to  say :  "  What  do  you  think  about  Mr. 
Jeffard  now,  Dick  ?  Are  we  all  mistaken  ?  or  is  he 
the  hardened  cynic  he  seems  to  be?  " 

Bartrow  did  not  reply  on  the  spur  of  the  moment, 
as  was  his  custom.  When  he  had  reasoned  it  out, 
he  said :  — 

"  I  think  we  ought  to  break  away  from  the  notion 


354  THE   HELPERS 

that  a  man  has  got  to  be  either  all  angel  or  all 
devil.  Jeffarcl  's  a  human  man,  like  the  rest  of  us. 
He  's  done  some  good  things  that  I  know  of,  —  and 
one  pretty  bad  one  ;  and  it 's  the  bad  one  that  is 
setting  the  pace  for  him  just  now.  But,  as  I  once 
said  to  Lansdale,  I  'm  betting  on  the  finish.  One 
bad  curve  need  n't  spoil  a  whole  railioad." 

Myra's  hand  sought  and  found  his  under  cover  of 
her  wrap.  "  You  are  loyalty  itself,  Dick,  and  I 
can't  help  loving  you  for  it.  But  you  say  '  one  bad 
one.'     Have  you  forgotten  the  Irish  girl  ?  " 

Dick  set  his  jaw  at  that,  and  the  big  hand  closed 
firndy  over  the  small  one. 

"  When  I  have  to  believe  that  of  him,  Myra,  my 
faith  in  my  kind  will  drop  back  more  notches  than 
one.  That  woidd  make  him  all  devil,  don't  you 
see?" 

But  her  charity  outran  his.  "  No,  Dick ;  I  don't 
quite  see  it.  It  is  just  one  more  coil  in  the  puzzle- 
tangle  of  good  and  evil  that  you  spoke  of.  Connie 
laiows  it,  and  if  she  can  find  it  in  her  heart  to  for- 
give him  "  — 

There  was  reverent  awe  in  Bartrow's  rejoinder. 
"  Do  you  mean  to  say  she  'd  forgive  him  —  that  ?  " 

The  intermittent  clatter  and  roar  of  the  canyon 
climb  had  begim,  and  in  one  of  the  breathing  spaces 
Myra  made  answer. 

"  She  is  one  of  God's  little  ones,  as  Mr.  Lansdale 
said.  I  think  she  would  forgive  him  even  that." 
And  in  the  next  gap  in  the  clamor,  "  Did  you  teU 
him  about  Gai'viu  ?  " 


THE  HELPERS  355 

Dick  shook  his  head.  "  No,  I  did  n't  dare  to. 
It 's  a  hard  thing  to  say,  but  I  'm  not  sure  he 
would  n't  prosecute  Jim  for  the  attempt  to  kill. 
There  's  no  such  vindictiveness  in  the  world  as  that 
which  dates  back  to  benefits  forgot.  But  I  told 
Lansdale,  and  gave  him  leave  to  make  use  of  it  if 
the  time  should  ever  come  when  he  could  do  it  with- 
out jeopardizing  Garvin." 

At  which  Myra's  charity  stumbled  and  fell  and 
ran  no  more. 

"  That  time  will  never  come,  Dick.  Mr.  Jeffard 
has  a  double  feud  with  Garvin,  —  he  is  Garvin's 
debtor  for  benefits  forgot,  as  you  say ;  and  he  has 
done  Garvin  an  injury.  I  am  glad  you  did  n't  tell 
him." 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

"  She  's  gone  to  her  rest,  at  last,  poor  soul,  and 
it 's  happy  she  'd  be  if  it  was  n't  for  the  childer." 

Constance  had  been  waiting  through  the  long 
hours  of  the  afternoon  for  Margarets  return  from 
Owen  David's  shanty  on  the  North  Side;  waiting 
for  the  summons  to  the  death-bed  of  the  mother  of 
Owen  David's  children.  She  had  promised  to  go, 
wherefore  her  heai't  smote  her  and  the  ready  tears 
welled  up  at  Margaret's  announcement. 

"  Oh,  Margaret !     Why  did  n't  you  come  for  me  !  " 

"  'T  was  no  use  at  all.  Miss  Constance ;  't  was 
her  last  word  she  said  to  you  this  morning,  when 
she  asked  you  to  try  once  more  with  Owen  for  the 
childer's  sake.  When  you  'd  gone  she  turned  her 
face  to  the  wall,  and  we  never  knew  when  her  soul 
went  out." 

"  Was  Owen  there  ?  " 

"  He  was  ;  and  it 's  sober  he  was  for  the  first  time 
in  many  a  day.  He  took  it  hard  ;  them  Welsh  are 
flighty  people,  anyway." 

"  He  ought  to  take  it  hard,"  said  Constance,  wdth 
as  near  an  approach  to  vindictiveness  as  the  heart 
of  compassion  would  sanction.  "  Has  everything 
been  done  ?  " 

Margaret  nodded.     "  The    neighbors    were    that 


THE   HELPERS  357 

kind ;  and  it 's  poor  hard-working  people  they  are, 
too." 

"  I  know,"  said  Constance.  She  was  making 
ready  to  go  out,  and  she  found  her  purse  and 
counted  its  keepings.  They  were  as  scanty  as  her 
will  to  help  was  plenteous.  Myra's  check  had  been 
generous,  but  the  askings  were  many,  and  there  was 
no  more  than  the  sweet  savor  of  it  left.  "  I  'ra 
sure  I  don't  know  what  Owen  will  do,"  she  went  on. 
"  I  suppose  there  is  n't  money  enough  to  bury  her," 

Margaret  had  taken  off  her  hat  and  jacket  and 
she  was  suddenly  impelled  to  go  to  work.  The 
lounge-cover  was  awiy,  and  in  the  straightening  of 
it  she  said  :  — 

"Don't  you  be  worrying  about  that,  now,  Miss 
Constance.  It  was  Owen  himself  that  was  giving 
me  the  money  for  the  funeral  when  I  was  leaving." 

"  Owen?  Where  did  he  get  it?  He  hasn't  had 
a  day's  work  for  a  month." 

Margaret  was  smoothing  the  cover  and  shaking 
the  pillows  vigorously.  "  Sure,  that 's  just  what  I 
was  thinking"  (slap,  slap),  "but  I've  his  money 
in  my  pocket  this  blessed  minute.  So  you  just  go 
and  say  a  sweet  word  to  the  childer,  Miss  Con- 
stance, and  don't  you  be  worrying  about  anything." 

Connie's  hand  was  on  the  door-knob,  but  she 
turned  with  a  sudden  sinking  of  the  heart,  and  a 
swift  impulse  that  sent  her  across  the  room  to  Mar- 
garet's side. 

"  Margaret,  you  gave  Owen  that  money  before  he 
gave  it  to  you.     Where  did  you  get  it  ?  " 


358  THE   HELPERS 

Margaret  left  off  beating  the  pillows  and  slipped 
iij)on  her  knees  to  bury  her  face  in  one  of  them. 

"  I  knew  you  'd  be  asking  that,"  she  sobbed,  and 
then  :  "  Have  n't  I  been  working  honest  every  day 
since  Christmas  ?  And  does  it  be  taking  all  I  earn 
to  keep  me,  I  'd  like  to  know  ?  " 

Constance  went  down  on  her  knees  beside  the 
girl,  and  what  she  said  was  to  One  who  was  merci- 
fid  even  to  the  Magdalenes.  When  she  rose  the 
pain  of  it  was  a  little  didled,  and  she  went  back  to 
the  charitable  necessities  in  a  word. 

"  Is  there  any  one  to  watch  with  her  to-night, 
Margaret  ?  " 

The  girl  lifted  a  tear-stained  face,  and  the  pas- 
sionate Irish  eyes  were  swimming,  and  Constance 
turned  away  because  her  loving  compassion  was 
greater  than  her  determination  to  be  judicially 
severe. 

"  I'm  one,"  Margaret  answered ;  "  and  Mrs. 
Mulcahey'U  come  over  when  her  man  gets  home." 

"  Very  well.  I  '11  go  over  and  give  the  children 
their  suppers  and  put  them  to  bed.  I  '11  stay  till 
you  come,  and  you  can  bring  Tommie  to  take  me 
home." 

Constance  went  upon  her  mission  heavy-hearted ; 
and  in  the  hovel  across  the  river  found  comfort  in 
the  aiviuff  of  comfort.  The  David  children  were 
all  little  ones,  too  yoimg  to  fully  realize  their  loss ; 
and  when  they  had  been  fed  and  hushed  to  sleep, 
and  one  of  Da\4d's  fellow  workmen  had  taken  the 
husband  away  for  the  night,  Constance  sat  down  in 


THE   HELPERS  359 

the  room  with  the  dead  to  wait  for  Margaret.  For 
a  heart  less  pitifid  or  a  soul  less  steadfast,  the 
silence  of  the  night  and  the  solitary  watch  with  the 
sheeted  figure  on  the  bed  might  have  been  unnerv- 
ing ;  but  in  all  her  life  Constance  had  never  had  to 
reckon  with  fear.  Hence,  when  the  door  opened 
behind  her  without  a  preliminary  knock,  and  a  foot- 
step crossed  the  threshold,  she  thought  it  was  one 
of  the  neighbors  and  rose  softly  with  her  finger  on 
her  lip.  But  when  she  saw  who  it  was,  she  started 
back  and  made  as  if  she  would  retreat  to  the  room 
where  the  children  were. 

"  You !  "  she  said.     "  Why  are  you  here  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon."  Jeffard  said  it  deferen- 
tially, almost  humbly.  "I  didn't  expect  to  find 
you  here  ;  I  was  looking  for  —  for  the  man,  you 
know.     What  has  become  of  him  ?  " 

The  hesitant  pause  in  the  midst  of  the  explanation 
opened  the  door  for  a  swift  suspicion,  —  a  suspicion 
too  horrible  to  be  entertained,  and  yet  too  strong 
to  be  driven  forth.  There  was  righteous  indignation 
in  her  eyes  when  she  went  close  to  him  and  said :  — 

"  Can  you  stand  here  in  the  presence  of  that "  — 
pointing  to  the  sheeted  figure  on  the  bed  — "  and 
lie  to  me  ?  You  expected  to  meet  Margaret  Gan- 
non here.  You  have  made  an  appointment  with 
her  —  an  assignation  in  the  house  of  the  dead. 
Shame  on  you  !  " 

It  should  have  crushed  him.  It  did  for  the 
moment.  And  when  he  rallied  it  was  apparently 
in  a  spirit  of  the  sheerest  hardihood. 


360  TllK   HELPERS 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said  ;  "  I  did  expect  to  meet 
Margaret.  With  your  permission,  I  '11  go  outside 
and  wait  for  her." 

She  flashed  between  him  and  the  door  and  put 
her  back  to  it. 

"  Not  until  you  have  heard  what  I  have  to  say, 
Mr.  Jeffard.  I  've  been  wanting  to  say  it  ever  smce 
Tommie  told  me,  but  you  have  been  very  careful  not 
to  give  me  a  chance.  You  know  this  girl's  story, 
and  what  she  has  had  to  fight  from  day  to  day. 
Are  you  so  lost  to  every  sense  of  justice  and  mercy 
as  to  try  to  drag  her  back  into  sin  and  shame  after 
all  her  pitiful  struggiings  ?  " 

"  It  would  seem  so,"  Jeffard  retorted,  and  his 
smile  was  harder  than  his  words.  "It  is  quite  con- 
ceivable that  you  should  believe  it  of  the  man  who 
once  took  your  charity  and  made  a  mock  of  it. 
May  I  go  now  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  not  yet ;  not  until  you  have  promised 
me  to  spare  and  slay  not,  for  this  once.  Think  of 
it  a  moment ;  it  is  the  price  of  a  human  soul !  And 
it  is  such  a  little  thing  for  you  to  concede." 

The  hard  smile  came  and  went  again. 

"  Another  man  might  say  that  Margaret  has  come 
to  be  very  beautiful,  Miss  EUiott." 

The  indignation  was  gone  out  of  her  eyes,  and  her 
lips  were  trembling. 

"  Oh,  how  can  you  be  so  hard !  "  she  faltered. 
"  Will  nothing  move  you?  " 

He  met  the  beseeching  with  a  steady  gaze  that 
might  have  been  the  outlooking  of  a  spirit  of  calm 


THE   HELPERS  361 

superiority  or  the  cold  stare  of  a  demon  of  ruthless- 
ness.  The  mere  suggestion  of  the  alternative  made 
her  hot  and  cold  by  turns. 

"  I  wonder  that  you  have  the  courage  to  appeal  to 
me,"  he  said,  at  length.     "  Are  you  not  afraid  ?  " 

"  For  Margaret's  sake  I  am  not  afraid." 

"  You  are  very  brave  —  and  very  loyal.  Do  you 
wonder  that  I  was  once  moved  to  tell  you  that  I 
loved  you  ?  " 

"  How  can  you  speak  of  that  here  —  and  now  !  " 
she  burst  out.  "  Is  there  no  measure  of  the  hard- 
ness of  your  heart?  Is  it  not  enough  that  you 
should  make  me  beg  for  that  which  I  have  a  right 
to  demand  ?  " 

He  went  apart  from  her  at  that  to  walk  softly  up 
and  down  in  the  narrow  space  between  the  bed  and 
the  wall,  —  to  walk  for  leaden-winged  minutes  that 
seemed  hours  to  Constance,  waiting  for  his  answer. 
At  the  final  turn  he  lifted  the  sheet  from  the  face  of 
the  dead  woman  and  looked  long  and  earnestly,  as 
one  who  woidd  let  death  speak  where  life  was  dumb 
and  inarticidate.  Constance  watched  him  with  her 
heart  in  a  turmoil  of  doubt  and  fear.  The  doubt  was 
of  her  own  making,  as  the  fear  was  of  his.  She  had 
thought  that  this  man  was  known  to  her,  in  his  poten- 
tialities for  good  or  evil,  in  liis  stumblings  upon  the 
brink  of  the  abyss,  and  in  his  later  plimge  into  the 
depths  of  wrongdoing ;  but  now  that  she  was  brought 
face  to  face  with  him,  her  prefignrings  took  new 
shapes  and  she  feared  to  look  upon  them.  For  the 
potentialities  had  suddenly  become  superhuman,  and 


362  THE   HELPERS 

love  itself  stood  aghast  at  the  possibilities.  In  the 
midst  of  it  he  stood  before  her  again. 

"  "What  is  it  that  you  would  have  me  do  ? "  he 
asked. 

The  tone  of  it  assured  her  that  her  battle  was 
fought  and  won ;  but  at  the  moment  of  victory  she 
had  not  the  strength  to  make  terms  with  him. 

"  You  know  what  you  ought  to  do,"  she  said,  with 
eyes  downcast. 

"  The  *  oughts  '  are  sometimes  terribly  hard,  Miss 
Elliott.     Have  n't  you  found  them  so  ?  " 

"  Sometimes."  She  was  finding  one  of  them 
sufficiently  hard  at  that  moment  to  compel  the  ad- 
mission. 

"  But  they  are  never  impossible,  you  would  say, 
and  that  is  true  also.  You  asked  me  a  few  moments 
ago  if  there  was  notliing  that  would  move  me,  and  I 
was  tempted.  But  that  is  past.  Will  you  suffer  me 
to  go  now  ?  " 

She  stood  aside,  but  her  hand  was  still  on  the 
latch  of  the  door. 

"  You  have  not  promised,"  she  said. 

"  Pardon  me  ;  I  was  hoping  you  would  spare  me. 
The  cup  is  of  my  own  mixing,  but  the  lees  are  bitter. 
Must  I  drain  them  ?  " 

"I  —  I  don't  imderstand,"  she  rejomed. 

"  Don't  you  ?  Consider  it  a  moment.  You  have 
taken  it  for  granted  that  I  had  it  in  my  heart  to  do 
this  thing,  and,  linowing  what  you  do  of  me,  the  in- 
ference is  just.  But  I  have  not  admitted  it,  and  I 
had  hoped  you  would  spare  me  the  admission  which 


THE   HELPERS  363 

a  promise  would  imply.  Won't  you  leave  me  this 
poor  shadow  of  refutation  ?  " 

She  opened  the  door  for  liim. 

"  Thank  you  ;  it  is  much  more  than  I  deserve. 
Since  you  do  not  ask  it,  you  shall  have  the  assurance, 
—  the  best  I  can  give.  I  shall  leave  Denver  in  a 
day  or  two,  and  you  may  take  your  own  measures 
for  safeguarding  Margaret  in  the  interval.  Per- 
haps it  won't  be  as  difficidt  as  you  may  imagine. 
If  I  have  read  her  aright  you  may  ask  large  things 
of  her  loyalty  and  devotion  to  you." 

The  battle  was  over,  and  she  had  but  to  hold  her 
peace  to  be  quit  of  him.  But  having  won  her  cause 
it  was  not  in  the  loAring  heart  of  her  to  let  him  go 
unrecompensed. 

"  You  are  going  away  ?  Then  we  may  not  meet 
again.  I  gave  you  bitter  words  a  few  minutes  ago, 
Mr.  Jeffard,  but  I  believed  they  were  true.  Won't 
you  deny  them  —  if  you  can  ?  " 

His  foot  was  across  the  threshold,  but  he  turned 
to  smile  down  upon  her. 

"  You  are  a  true  woman.  You  said  I  lied  to  you, 
and  now  you  ask  me  to  deny  it,  knowing  well  enough 
that  the  denial  will  afterward  stand  for  another 
falsehood.  I  know  what  you  think  of  me,  —  what 
you  are  bound  to  think  of  me  ;  but  is  n't  it  conceiv- 
able that  I  would  rather  quench  that  fire  than  add 
fuel  to  it?" 

"  But  you  are  going  away,"  she  insisted. 

"And  since  we  may  never  meet  again,  you  crave 
the  poor  comfort  of  a  denial.     You  shall  have  it  for 


364  THE  HELPERS 

what  it  is  worth.  When  you  are  inclined  to  think 
charitably  of  me,  go  back  to  first  principles  and  re- 
member that  the  worst  of  men  have  sometimes  had 
promjitings  which  were  not  altogether  unworthy. 
Let  the  major  accusation  stand,  if  you  choose;  I 
did  have  an  appointment  here  with  Margaret  Gan- 
non. But  when  your  faith  in  humankind  needs 
heartening,  conceive  that  for  this  once  the  tryst  was 
one  which  any  woman  might  have  kept  with  me. 
Believe,  if  you  care  to,  that  my  business  here  this 
evening  was  really  with  this  poor  fellow  whose  sins 
have  found  him  out.  Woidd  you  like  to  be  able  to 
believe  that  ?  " 

For  the  first  time  since  doubt  and  fear  had  gotten 
the  better  of  indignation  she  was  able  to  lift  her  eyes 
to  his. 

"  I  will  believe  it,"  she  said  gratefully. 

He  smiled  again,  and  she  was  no  longer  afraid. 
Now  that  she  came  to  think  of  it,  she  wondered  if 
she  had  ever  been  really  afraid  of  him. 

"  Your  faith  is  very  beautiful,  Miss  Elliott.  I 
am  glad  to  be  able  to  give  it  sometliing  better  than 
a  bare  suggestion  to  build  on.  Will  you  give  this 
to  Margaret  when  she  comes  ?  " 

It  was  a  folded  paper,  with  a  printed  title  and  in- 
dorsement blanks  on  the  back.  She  took  it  and 
glanced  at  the  filing.  It  was  the  deed  to  a  burial 
lot  in  the  name  of  Owen  David. 

"  Oh  !  "  she  said ;  and  there  was  a  world  of  con- 
trition and  self-reproach  in  the  single  word.  "  Can 
you  ever  forgive  me,  Mr.  Jeffard  ?  " 


THE   HELPERS  365 

As  once  before,  when  Lansdale  had  proffered  it, 
Jeffard  pushed  aside  the  cup  of  reinstatement. 

"  Don't  take  too  much  for  granted.  Remember, 
the  indictment  still  stands.  Margaret  Gannon's 
tempter  might  have  done  this  and  still  merit  your 
detestation." 

And  at  the  word  she  was  once  more  alone  with 
the  still  fio:ure  on  the  bed. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

For  what  reason  Constance,  left  alone  in  the 
house  of  the  dead,  went  softly  from  the  lighted 
room  to  kneel  at  the  bedside  of  the  sleeping  chil- 
dren in  the  lean-to  beyond  —  to  kneel  with  her  face 
in  her  hands  and  her  heart  swelling  with  emotions 
too  great  for  any  outlet  save  that  of  sorro\vfid  be- 
seechings,  —  let  those  adjudge  who  have  passed  in 
some  crucial  moment  from  loss  to  gain,  and  back 
to  loss  again.  There  was  a  pitiful  heart  cry  in  the 
prayer  for  help  because  she  knew  now  that  love, 
mighty  and  unreasoning,  must  be  reckoned  with  in 
every  future  thought  of  this  man  ;  love  heedless  of 
consequences,  clinging  first  to  an  imagined  ideal,  and 
now  to  the  sorrowful  wreck  of  that  ideal ;  love 
lashed  into  being,  it  may  be,  by  the  very  whip  of 
shame,  acknowledged  only  to  be  chained  and  dun- 
geoned in  the  Castle  of  Despair,  but  alive  and 
pleading,  and  promising  yet  to  live  and  plead 
though  hope  were  dead. 

It  was  thus  that  Margaret  found  her  an  hour 
later ;  and  in  the  darkness  of  the  little  room  the 
true-hearted  Irish  girl  knelt  beside  her  saint,  with 
her  strong  arms  around  the  weeping  one,  and  a  sob 
of  precious  sympathy  in  the  outpouring  of  words. 

"  There  now  —  there   now.    Miss    Constance  !   is 


THE   HELPERS  367 

It  kneeling  here  and  crpng  for  these  poor  left  ones 
that  you  are  ?  Sure  it 's  the  Holy  Virgin  herself 
that  '11  be  mothering  them,  and  the  likes  of  them. 
And  Owen  '11  be  doing  his  part,  too.  It  's  a 
changed  man  he  is." 

Constance  shook  her  head.  She  was  too  sincere 
to  let  the  lesser  reason  stand  for  the  greater,  even 
with  Margaret. 

"I  do  grieve  for  them,  Margaret ;  but  —  but  it 
is  n't  that." 

"  It  is  n't  that,  do  you  say  ?  Then  I  know  full 
well  what  it  is,  and  it 's  the  truth  I  'm  going  to  tell 
you.  Miss  Constance,  for  all  the  promisings  he  made 
me  give  him.  'T  is  Mr.  Jeffard's  money  that 's  to 
go  for  the  funeral,  and  it  was  him  left  it  with  me  to 
give  to  Owen.  He  told  me  you  'd  not  take  it  from 
him,  and  't  was  his  own  free  gift.  Ever  since  he 
came  back  he  's  been  giving  me  money  for  the  poor 
ones,  and  making  me  swear  never  to  tell  you ;  but  it 
was  for  your  sweet  sake.  Miss  Connie,  and  not  for 
mine.     I  'd  want  to  die  if  you  did  n't  believe  that." 

"  Oh,  Margaret !  are  you  telling  me  the  truth  ? 
I  do  so  want  to  believe  it !  " 

Margaret  rose  and  drew  her  confessor  to  the  half- 
open  door ;  to  the  bedside  of  the  sheeted  one. 

"  A  little  while  ago  she  was  alive  and  talking  to 
you,  Miss  Constance,  and  you  beheved  her  because 
you  knew  she  was  going  fast.  If  I  'd  be  like  that, 
I  'd  tell  you  the  same." 

"  I  believe  you,  Margaret  —  I  do  beheve  you ; 
and,  oh,  I  'm  so  thankful !  It  would  break  my 
heart  to  have  you  go  back  now  !  " 


368  THE   HELPERS 

"  Don't  you  bo  worrying  for  me.  Did  n't  I  say 
once  that  the  devil  might  fly  away  with  me,  but  I  'd 
not  live  to  leave  him  have  tlie  good  of  it  ?  When 
that  time  comes,  Miss  Constance,  it 's  another  dead 
woman  you  '11  be  crying  over.  And  now  you  '11  go 
home  and  take  your  rest ;  the  good  old  father  is 
waiting  on  the  doorstep  for  you." 

Even  with  his  daughter,  Stephen  Elliott  was  the 
most  reticent  of  men ;  and  on  the  little  journey  up 
the  river  front  and  across  the  viaduct  he  plodded 
along  in  silence  beside  her,  waiting  for  her  to  speak 
if  she  had  anything  to  say.  Constance  had  a  heart 
full  to  overflowing,  but  not  of  the  things  which  lend 
themselves  to  speech  with  any  father  ;  and  when  she 
broke  the  silence  it  was  in  self-defense,  and  on  the 
side  of  the  commonplace. 

"  Have  you  decided  yet  where  you  wiU  go  ?  " 
she  asked,  kno^ving  that  the  arrangements  for  the 
prospecting  trip  were  all  but  completed. 

"  N — no,  not  exactly.  Except  that  I  never  have 
gone  with  the  rush,  and  I  don't  mean  to  this  time. 
There 's  some  pretty  promising  country  around  up 
back  of  Dick's  mountain,  and  I  ve  been  thinldng  of 
that." 

"  I  wish  you  would  go  into  the  Bonanza  district," 
she  said.  "  If  I  'm  to  stay  with  Dick  and  Myra, 
it  will  be  a  comfort  to  know  that  you  are  not  very 
far  away." 

The  old  man  plodded  another  square  before  he 
succeeded  in  casting  his  thought  into  words. 

"  I  was  wondering  if  that  was  n't  the  reason  why 


THE  HELPERS  369 

I  want  to  go  there.  I  'm  not  letting  on  to  anybody 
about  it,  but  I  'm  getting  sort  of  old  and  trembly, 
Connie;  and  you're  about  all  I  have  left." 

She  slipped  her  arm  an  inch  or  two  farther 
through  his.  "  Must  it  be,  poppa  ?  Can't  we  get 
along  without  it  ?  I  'U  be  glad  to  live  like  the 
poorest  of  them,  if  we  can  only  be  together." 

"  I  know  ;  you  're  a  good  daughter  to  me,  Connie, 
and  you  'd  go  into  the  hospital  on  Dr.  Gordon's 
offer  to-morrow,  if  I  'd  say  the  word.  But  I  think 
the  last  strike  I  made  rather  sjjoiled  me.  I  got 
sort  of  used  to  the  flesh-pots,  and  I  have  n't  got 
over  feeling  for  my  check-book  yet.  I  guess  I  '11 
have  to  try  it  once  more  before  we  go  on  the 
county." 

She  would  have  said  more  had  there  been  more 
to  say.  But  her  arguments  had  all  been  exhausted 
when  the  prospecting  fever  had  set  in,  and  she 
could  only  send  him  forth  with  words  of  heartening 
and  a  brave  God-speed. 

"  I  'm  not  going  to  put  things  in  the  way,"  she 
said ;  "  but  I  'd  go  \vith  you  and  help  dig,  if  you  'd 
let  me.  The  next  best  thing  will  be  to  have  you 
somewhere  within  reach,  and  I  shall  be  comforted 
if  you  can  manage  to  keep  Topeka  Mountam  in 
sight.     But  you  won't." 

"  Yes,  I  will,  daughter ;  the  string  pulls  about 
as  hard  at  my  end  as  it  does  at  yours,  and  I  '11  tell 
you  what  I  '11  do.  The  gulches  that  I  had  in  mind 
are  all  up  at  the  head  of  Mp-iad  Creek,  and  I  '11 
ship  the    '  stake '    to  Dick,    and  make  the  Myriad 


370  THE   HELPERS 

a   sort    of   outfitting  camp.     IIow  will  that  strike 

you?" 

"  That  will  be  fine,"  she  said ;  adding,  in  an  up- 
flash  of  the  old  gayety  :  "  and  when  you  've  located 
your  claim,  Myra  and  I  will  come  and  turn  the 
windlass  for  you." 

They  were  climbing  the  stairs  to  the  darkened 
suite  on  the  third  floor,  and  at  the  door  Constance 
found  a  telegraph  messenger  trying  to  pin  a  non- 
delivery notice  to  the  panel.  She  signed  his  blank 
by  the  hall  light,  and  read  the  message  while  her 
father  was  unlocking  the  door  and  lighting  the 
lamp. 

"It  is  fi'om  Myi'a,"  she  explained ;  "  and  it 's 
good  news  and  bad.  Do  you  remember  what  Dick 
was  telling  us  the  other  evening  about  his  drunken 
blacksmith  ?  " 

"  The  feUow  that  went  into  the  blast-choke  after 
the  dead  man  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Pie  is  do\\ai  with  mountain  fever,  and 
Myra  says  nothing  but  good  nursing  will  save  him. 
Dick  has  got  his  story  out  of  him  at  last ;  he  is 
Margaret  Gannon's  father." 

"  Humph  !  what  a  little  world  this  is !  I  suppose 
you  will  send  Margaret  right  away  ?  " 

"  I  shaU  go  with  her  to-morrow  morning.  I  '11 
teU  Dick  what  you  are  going  to  do,  and  you  can 
come  when  you  are  ready." 

The  old  man  nodded  acquiescence.  "  It  '11  be 
better  for  you  to  go  along ;  she  '11  be  all  broke  up. 
Want  me  to  go  and  wire  Dick  ?  " 


THE   HELPERS  371 

"  If  you  will.  I  should  have  asked  the  boy  to 
wait,  but  he  was  gone  before  I  had  opened  the  en- 
velope. Tell  Dick  to  keep  him  alive  at  any  cost, 
and  that  we  '11  be  there  to-morrow  evening." 

When  her  father  was  gone,  Constance  sat  down 
to  piece  out  the  discoveries,  comforting  and  har- 
rowing, of  the  foregone  hour,  and  to  set  them  over 
against  each  other  in  a  field  which  was  as  yet  too 
near  to  be  retrospective.  She  tried  to  stand  aside 
for  herself,  and  to  see  and  consider  only  those  to 
whom  her  heart  went  out  in  loving  compassion  and 
sympathy ;  but  it  was  ine\ntable  that  she  should 
finally  come  to  a  re-reading  of  the  letter  taken  from 
its  hiding-place  in  the  photograph  frame.  She  dwelt 
upon  it  with  a  soft  flush  spreading  slowly  from  neck 
to  cheek,  reading  it  twice  and  yet  once  again  before 
she  laid  it  in  the  little  wall-pocket  of  a  grate  and 
touched  a  match  to  it. 

"  For  his  sake  and  for  mine,"  she  said  softly,  as 
she  watched  it  shrivel  and  blacken  in  the  flame. 
"  That  is  what  I  must  do  —  burn  my  ships  so  that 
I  can't  go  back." 

The  charred  wraith  of  the  letter  went  up  the 
chimney  in  the  expiring  gasp  of  the  flame,  and 
there  was  the  sound  of  a  familiar  step  in  the  cor- 
ridor. She  went  quickly  to  open  the  door  for  the 
late  visitor.  It  was  Lausdale,  come  to  say  what 
must  be  said  on  the  eve  of  parting,  and  to  ask  for 
his  answer  to  a  conditional  plea  made  in  a  moment 
when  the  consumptive's  optimism  had  carried  him 
off  his  feet. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

The  periods  of  the  scene-shifter,  in  life  as  in  life's 
mimicking  on  any  stage,  have  fallen  into  disesteem. 
In  any  flight  of  fancy  or  plodding  journey  of  fact 
these  are  flat  countries  to  be  traversed  ;  interreg- 
nums which,  however  replete  with  incident  for  the 
actors  themselves,  are  deemed  alike  unworthy  of  the 
play^vright's  outworking  or  the  chronicler's  record- 
ing. To  the  audience  waiting  beyond  the  footlights 
these  are  mere  breathing  spaces  of  music-hastened 
minutes  standing  for  whatever  lapses  of  days,  weeks 
or  months  the  story  of  the  play  involves ;  but  for 
the  scene-shifter  they  are  gaps  toil-filled,  with  fierce 
strivings  and  wrestlings  and  doughty  compeUings  of 
the  animate  and  inanimate  perversities. 

None  the  less,  for  the  toiler  behind  the  scenes 
there  are  compensations.  For  the  audience,  the 
entT\icte  is  a  solution  of  continuity,  more  or  less 
skillfidly  bridged,  according  to  the  playwright's  gift ; 
but  the  worker  of  transformations  knows  no  break 
in  the  action.  For  him  the  story  of  the  play  is 
complete,  marching  evenly  to  its  climax  through 
spoken  line  and  drop-curtained  interregnum. 

The  curtain  has  rung  down  upon  an  interior  in 
an  apartment  house.  It  is  to  rise  upon  a  flash- 
light picture  of  a  siunmer  night  scene  in  a  mountain- 


THE  HELPERS  373 

girt  valley.  The  walls  of  the  homelike  interior 
vanish,  and  in  their  stead  dim  reaches  of  the  forest- 
clad  moimtains  suggest  themselves.  A  stream  tum- 
bles over  the  boulders  in  its  bed  with  a  hollow  roar 
hinting  at  canyoned  plungings  above  ;  and  on  the 
margin  of  it  a  quaking  aspen  blinks  its  many-lidded 
eyes  in  the  light  of  a  camj)  fire. 

Against  the  pillared  background  of  forest,  pri- 
meval firs  whose  sombre  greens  become  murky  black 
in  the  firelight,  a  campers'  wagon  is  drawn  up ; 
and  the  picket  pins  of  the  grazing  horses  are  di'iven 
in  a  grass  grown  extension  of  the  glade  to  the  right. 
There  is  a  silken  whisper  abroad  in  the  night,  rising 
and  falling  upon  the  soimd  waves  of  the  tumbling 
stream  :  the  voices  of  the  trees  as  they  call  to  each 
other  in  the  night  wind  pouring  softly  down  from 
the  sky-pitched  peaks. 

The  scene  is  set  and  the  actors  are  in  their  places. 
They  are  two  men  clad  in  flannel  shirts  and  brown 
duck  overalls  and  shooting-coats.  One  of  them  is 
bearded  and  bronzed,  with  the  well-knit  figure  of 
conscious  strength.  The  other  is  of  slighter  frame, 
and  on  his  clean-shaven  face  the  prolonged  holiday 
in  the  open  is  but  now  beginning  to  imj)ress  the 
stamp  of  returning  health  and  vigor.  The  bearded 
man  is  on  his  back  beside  the  fire,  with  his  clasped 
hands  for  a  pillow  and  an  extinct  pipe  between  his 
teeth.  The  clean-shaven  one  is  propped  against  the 
bole  of  a  tree  ;  his  eyes  are  closed,  and  his  pipe  has 
slipped  from  his  fingers. 

A  brand  falls  into  the  glowing  mass  of  embers,  and 


374  THE  HELPERS 

the  sparks  fly  upward  in  a  crackling  shower.  It  is 
the  prompter's  call-bell.  The  man  reclining  at  the 
tree-foot  opens  his  eyes,  and  the  bearded  one  sits  up 
and  feels  mechanically  for  the  tobacco  pouch. 

"■  Here  it  is,"  says  Lansdale.  "  I  was  just  about 
to  fill  up  again  when  the  realities  slipped  away. 
It 's  astonishing  how  one  can  sleep  overtime  in  these 
upper  levels." 

The  athletic  one  rises  and  stretches  till  his  joints 
crack.  "  Been  asleep,  have  you  ?  So  have  I. 
There  's  no  opiate  in  the  world  like  a  day's  tramp- 
ing in  the  altitudes.     Freshen  you  up  any  ?  " 

"  As  to  body,  yes.  But  I  've  had  a  curious  dream 
—  if  it  were  a  dream."  Silence  while  the  sob  of  the 
river  rises  and  falls  on  the  night  wind,  and  then  a 
half -hesitant  query.  "  Jeifard,  do  you  believe  in  pre- 
sentiments ?  " 

The  bearded  one  is  on  his  knees  before  the  fire, 
pressing  a  live  coal  into  the  bowl  of  his  pipe,  and  the 
answer  is  delayed. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  do  or  not ;  I  have  never 
had  one." 

"  But  you  have  known  of  others  having  them, 
have  n't  you  ?  " 

"  Of  one  other :  but  in  that  instance  it  was  fore- 
knowledge rather  than  a  foreboding.  The  jjresenti- 
ment  should  have  been  mine  ;  and  I  had  none." 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  me  about  it  ?  " 

"  No.  It  was  while  I  was  making  the  survey  for 
a  logging  railway  in  Quebec.  I  expected  to  be  out 
all  summer,  but  in  the  middle  of  it  the  company 


THE   HELPERS  375 

called  a  halt  and  I  went  home.  I  had  n't  wired  or 
written,  bvit  when  I  reached  Hinsdale  my  father 
was  at  the  station  to  meet  me.  For  three  days  my 
mother  had  been  insisting  that  I  would  come,  and  to 
quiet  her  they  had  been  meeting  the  trains.  She 
died  the  next  evening." 

"And  you  had  no  premonition  ?  " 

"None  whatever.  For  a  month  or  more  I  had 
been  beyond  the  reach  of  the  mails  ;  and  I  had  left 
her  in  her  usual  health.  It  was  a  bolt  out  of  a  clear 
sky." 

Again  the  brawling  stream  and  the  whispering 
leaves  fill  the  gap  of  silence  ;  and  as  before,  Lansdale 
is  the  first  to  speak. 

"  I  have  always  scouted  such  things,  as  sanity 
seems  to  demand.  Stories  with  any  element  of  the 
supernatural  in  them  have  never  appealed  to  me  be- 
cause, however  well  authenticated,  they  were  always 
stories,  and  never  actual  happenings  in  which  I  had 
any  part.  But  for  the  last  day  or  two  I  've  had  a 
growing  sense  of  impending  calamity,  and  I  can't 
shake  it  off." 

There  is  the  brusquerie  of  heartening  in  Jeffard's 
rejoinder. 

"  Nonsense  !  It 's  only  the  imaginative  part  of 
you  kicking  against  the  pricks  of  a  longish  holiday." 

"  That  is  ingenious,  but  I  can't  quite  accept  it. 
I  've  eaten  and  slept  with  the  imaginative  fiend  long 
enough  to  be  pretty  well  acquainted  with  his  vagaries. 
This  is  altogether  different.  It  is  precisely  the  feel- 
ing you  have  had  just  before  a  storm  ;  a  sense  of  de- 


376  THE   HELPERS 

pression  as  intangible  as  darkness,  but  quite  as  real. 
It  was  with  me  a  few  minutes  ago  when  I  fell  asleep, 
and  the  dream  seemed  to  be  a  part  of  it." 

"  Oh,  dreams,"  says  the  scoffer ;  "  I  thought  they 
had  been  accounted  for  by  the  dictists.  I  told  you 
that  last  batch  of  panbread  held  possibilities.  But 
go  on  and  unload  your  dream.     I  'm  shudder-proof." 

Lansdale  tells  it  circumstantially,  keeping  his  pipe 
alight  in  the  periods. 

"  It  did  n't  seem  like  a  dream ;  at  least,  not  in  the 
beginning  of  it.  I  was  sitting  here  just  as  I  am 
now,  and  you  were  on  your  back  over  there,  with  the 
pipe  in  your  mouth.  The  surroundings  were  the 
same,  except  that  the  fire  was  burning  low.  I  remem- 
ber thinking  that  you  must  have  fallen  asleep,  and 
wondering  why  the  pipe  did  n't  fall  and  wake  you. 
After  a  tune  the  roar  of  the  stream  seemed  to  quiet 
down,  and  I  heard  the  clink  of  horseshoes  upon  stone. 
The  sound  came  from  across  the  stream,  and  as  I 
looked  I  saw  a  trail  and  a  horseman  coming  down  it. 
It  was  all  so  real  that  I  wondered  why  I  had  n't  no- 
ticed the  trail  before.  The  man  rode  down  to  the 
water's  edge  and  made  as  if  he  would  cross.  I  saw 
him  quite  distinctly,  and  thought  it  curious,  because 
the  fire  was  too  low  to  give  much  light.  He  merely 
glanced  at  the  stream,  and  then  turned  his  horse's 
head  and  rode  do^vn  the  opposite  bank.  He  passed 
out  of  sight  among  the  trees,  and  a  moment  later  I 
heard  the  horse's  hoofs  again,  this  time  as  if  he  were 
on  a  bridge  of  poles." 

Jeffard  has  been  listening  with  attention  no  more 


THE   HELPERS  377 

than  decently  alert,  but  at  this  point  he  breaks  in  to 
say  :  "  You  've  been  walking  in  your  sleep.    Go  on." 

"  It  was  just  here  that  the  supernatural  came  in. 
I  told  you  that  the  man  had  passed  out  of  sight,  but 
all  at  once  I  seemed  to  see  him  again.  He  was  on 
a  corduroy  bridge  crossing  the  stream,  and  I  saw 
plainly  what  he  did  not,  —  that  the  bridge  was  un- 
safe, and  that  a  step  or  two  woidd  plunge  him  into 
the  torrent.  I  don't  remember  what  followed,  save 
that  I  tried  to  call  out,  first  to  him  and  then  to  you  ; 
but  my  voice  seemed  to  be  swallowed  up  in  the  thun- 
der of  the  water.  There  was  a  little  gap  filled  with 
fierce  strugglings,  and  then  I  seemed  to  be  here 
again,  lying  by  the  wagon  with  a  blanket  over  me ; 
and  you  were  walking  up  and  down  with  another  man, 
—  a  stranger.  That  is  all ;  except  that  I  tried  to 
tell  you  that  you  were  wet  through  and  woidd  take 
cold,  —  tried  and  coidd  n't,  and  awoke." 

Jeffard  has  risen  to  put  another  log  on  the  fire. 

"  It 's  the  panbread,"  he  says,  with  the  air  of  one 
who  sweeps  the  board  for  a  resetting  of  the  pieces. 
But  after  a  little  he  adds  :  "  I  was  wondering  how 
you  came  to  know  about  the  bridge.  That  is  the 
only  unaccountable  twist  in  it." 

"  Is  there  a  bridge  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  it 's  just  below  that  farther  clump  of 
aspens.  But  there  is  nothing  the  matter  with  it 
that  I  could  see.  I  noticed  it  while  I  was  picketing 
the  horses." 

"  And  is  there  a  trail  on  the  other  side  of  the 
stream  ?  " 


378  THE   HELPERS 

"  There  is.  There  used  to  be  a  ford  just  here, 
but  it  was  dangerous,  and  we  built  the  bridge." 

"  Then  you  have  been  here  before  ?  " 

"  Yes,  many  times.  I  spent  the  better  half  of  a 
summer  and  all  of  one  winter  in  this  valley.  The 
Midas  is  just  below  here.  I  meant  to  surprise  you 
to-morrow  morning." 

Lansdale's  gaze  is  in  the  heart  of  the  fire  and  his 
voice  is  low.  "  Do  you  know,  Henry,  1  'm  rather 
glad  you  did  n't  wait  ?  Don't  ask  me  why,  because  I 
can't  tell  you  in  terms  divisible  by  the  realities.  But 
somehow  the  to-morrows  don't  seem  to  be  assured." 

"  Oh,  pshaw  !  that 's  your  dream  —  and  the  pan- 
bread  its  father.  If  you  had  tallied  that  way  a 
month  ago,  when  you  were  really  living  from  hand 
to  mouth  "  — 

Lansdale  spreads  his  hands  palms  down  and  looks 
at  them. 

"  You  promised  me  a  new  lease  of  life,  Henry, 
and  you  've  given  it  me,  —  or  the  key  to  it.  I  did  n't 
believe  it  could  be  done,  and  my  cliief  trouble  in 
those  first  days  was  the  thought  that  you  'd  have  to 
bury  me  alone.  And  when  we  camped  in  a  particu- 
larly rocky  spot,  I  used  to  wonder  how  you  would 
manage  it." 

Jeffard's  smile  is  of  grimness.  "  If  you  had  men- 
tioned it,  I  could  have  helped  you  off  with  that 
burden.  These  mountains  are  full  of  graves,  ready- 
made  ;  prospect  holes,  where  the  better  part  of  many 
a  man  lies  buried.  Do  you  see  that  heap  of  earth 
and  stone  over  yonder  ?  " 


THE   HELPERS  379 

Lansdale  shades  his  eyes  from  the  firelight  and 
looks  and  sees. 

"  That  is  one  of  them.  Just  behind  that  heap 
there  is  a  shaft  with  a  windlass  across  it,  and  for  six 
weeks  two  men  worked  early  and  late  digging  a 
hole,  —  which  turned  out  to  be  an  excellent  well 
when  the  water  came  in  and  stopped  them." 

"  And  the  water  was  bitter,"  says  Lansdale.  "  Did 
you  drink  of  it,  Henry?  " 

"  No ;  but  the  other  man  did,  and  he  went  mad." 

Once  more  the  stream  and  the  sighing  night  wind 
share  the  silence.  For  many  days  Lansdale  has 
been  assuring  himself  that  the  golden  moment  for 
speech  of  the  helpful  sort  must  ultimately  be  made 
and  not  waited  for.  In  the  hour  when  he  had  con- 
sented to  Bartrow's  urgings  he  had  been  given  to  see 
his  opportunity  and  had  determined  to  grasp  it,  — 
had  made  the  determination  the  excuse  for  sharing 
Jeffard's  hospitality.  He  can  look  back  upon  that 
resolve  now  and  see  that  it  was  perfunctory ;  that 
the  prompting  had  been  of  duty  and  not  at  all  of 
love  for  the  man.  But  the  weeks  of  close  compan- 
ionship have  wi'ought  more  miracles  than  one,  and 
not  the  least  among  them  is  a  great  amazement 
builded  upon  the  daily  renewal  of  Jeffard's  loving- 
kindnesses.  For  the  man  with  the  world-quarrel 
has  been  a  brother  indeed  ;  nurse,  physician,  kins- 
man, and  succoring  friend ;  with  the  world-quarrel 
put  aside  from  the  moment  of  outsetting,  and  with 
apparently  no  object  in  life  less  worthy  than  that  of 
fighting  a  vicarious  battle  for  a  sick  man.     The 


380  THE   HELPERS 

summary  of  it  is  humanizing,  and  the  last  uphold- 
ings  of  the  crust  of  reserve  break  down  in  the 
warmth  of  it. 

"May  I  speak  as  the  spirit  moves,  Henry?" 

"  If  you    think    I    deserve    it.     Why   should  n't 

you?" 

"  It  is  a  question  of  obligations  rather  than  of  de- 
servings,  —  my  obligations.  No  brother  of  my  own 
blood  coidd  have  done  more  for  me  than  you  have." 

"  And  you  want  to  even  it  up  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  I  want  to  tell  you  while  I  may  that  it 
has  come  very  near  to  me  in  these  last  few  days. 
At  first  I  was  inclined  to  make  another  query  of  it, 
and  to  speculate  as  to  your  probable  motive ;  but 
latterly  I  've  come  to  call  it  by  its  right  name." 

Jeffard  shakes  his  head  slowly,  and  removes  his 
pipe  to  say :  "  Don't  make  any  more  mistakes, 
Lansdale.  I  'm  neither  better  nor  worse  than  I  was 
that  night  when  I  told  you  the  story  of  the  man  and 
his  temptation.  I  know  what  you  mean  and  what 
you  would  say ;  but  this  experiment  and  its  residts 
—  the  twenty  odd  poiuids  of  flesh  you  have  put  on, 
and  the  new  lease  of  life  they  stand  for  —  mean  more 
to  me  than  they  do  to  you." 

"  I  don't  begin  to  understand  the  drift  of  that," 
says  Lansdale. 

"  No  ?  I  wonder  if  you  would  understand  and 
believe  if  I  should  teU  you  the  truth;  if  I  should 
confess  that  my  motive,  so  far  as  you  are  concerned, 
is  entirely  selfish?" 

"  Since  understanding  implies  belief,  I  shall  have 


THE  HELPERS  381 

to  say  no  to  that.  But  you  might  try,  —  for  your 
o^\Ti  satisfaction." 

"  It 's  altogether  unprofitable ;  but  perhaps  it 's 
your  due.  I  '11  have  to  go  back  a  little  to  make  it 
clear.  In  the  old  days  we  were  pretty  good  friends, 
but  I  think  you  will  admit  that  there  have  always 
been  reservations.  You  have  n't  known  me  and  I 
have  n't  known  you  as  friends  of  the  David  and 
Jonathan  sort  know  each  other.     Is  n't  that  so  ?  " 

Lansdale  is  constrained  to  say  "  Yes,"  wishing  it 
were  otherwise. 

Jeffard  refills  his  pipe  and  fishes  for  another  live 
coal  in  the  fire-fringe.  The  g-r-r-rh  of  the  graz- 
ing horses  comes  from  the  near-by  glade,  and  again 
the  silence  begins  to  grow.  Suddenly  he  says : 
"  Let 's  drop  it,  Lansdale,  and  talk  about  something 
else." 

"  No,  go  on ;  nothing  you  can  say  will  efface  the 
brotherly  fact." 

"  Very  well,  —  if  you  will  have  it.  You  said  you 
were  inclined  to  question  my  motive.  It  was  more 
than  questionable  ;  it  was  frankly  selfish." 

"  Selfish  ?  You  '11  have  to  spell  it  out  large  for 
me.  From  my  point  of  view  it  seems  rather  the 
other  way  about.  What  had  you  to  gain  by  sad- 
dling yourself  with  the  care  of  a  sick  man  ?  " 

"  I  can't  put  it  in  words  —  not  without  laying 
myself  open  to  the  charge  of  playing  to  the  gallery. 
But  let  me  state  a  fact  and  ask  a  question.  A  year 
ago  you  thought  it  was  all  up  with  you,  and  you 
did  n't  seem  to  care  much.     A  few  mouths  later  I 


382  THE   HELPERS 

found  yon  fighting  for  yonr  life  like  a  shipwrecked 
sailor  with  land  in  sight.      What  did  it  ?  " 

That  the  lava-crust  of  reserve  is  altogether  molten 
is  evinced  in  Lansdale's  straightforward  reply. 

"  Love,  —  love  for  a  woman.  I  think  you  must 
have  known  that." 

^'  I  did.  That  was  why  you  were  making  the 
desperate  fight  for  life ;  and  that  is  why  we  are  here 
to-night,  you  and  I.     I  love  the  woman,  too." 

Lansdale  shakes  his  head  slowly,  and  an  ineffable 
smile  is  Jeffard's  reward. 

"  And  yet  you  call  it  selfishness,  Henry.  Man, 
man !  you  have  deliberately  gone  about  to  save  my 
life  when  another  might  have  taken  it !  " 

"I  shall  reap  where  I  have  sown,"  says  Jeffard 
steadily.  "  Latterly  I  have  been  living  for  one  day, 
—  the  day  when  I  can  take  you  back  to  her  in  the 
good  hope  that  she  will  forget  what  has  been  for  the 
sake  of  what  I  have  tried  to  make  possible." 

Once  more  Lansdale's  gaze  is  in  the  glowing  heart 
of  the  fire,  and  the  light  in  his  eyes  is  prophetic. 

"  Verily,  you  shall  reap,  Henry ;  but  not  in  a  field 
where  you  have  sown.  Don't  ask  me  how  I  know. 
That 's  my  secret.  But  out  of  all  this  will  come 
a  thing  not  to  be  measured  by  your  prefigurings. 
You  shall  have  your  reward  ;  but  I  crave  mine,  too. 
Will  you  give  it  me  ?  " 

"  If  it  be  mine  to  give."  '' 

"  It  is.  Do  justice  and  love  mercy,  Henry. 
That  is  the  thing  I  've  been  trying  to  find  words  to 
say  to  you  all  these  weeks." 


THE  HELPERS  383 

Jeffard  lays  the  pipe  aside  and  does  not  pretend 
to  misunderstand. 

"  Tell  me  what  you  would  like  to  have  me  do." 

"  I  think  you  must  know :  find  the  man  who 
drank  of  the  bitter  waters  and  went  mad,  and  give 
him  back  that  which  you  have  taken  from  him." 

"  Is  n't  there  a  possibility  that  I  can  do  neither  ?  " 

"  I  can  help  you  to  do  the  first,  —  and  for  the 
other  I  can  only  plead.  I  know  what  you  would 
say :  that  the  man  had  forfeited  his  right ;  that  he 
tried  to  kill  you  ;  that  by  all  the  laws  of  man's  in- 
venting this  money  is  yours.  But  God's  right  and 
yoiu-  debt  to  your  own  manhood  are  above  all  these. 
As  your  poor  debtor,  I  'm  privileged  to  ask  large 
things  of  you ;  can't  you  break  the  teeth  of  it  and 
shake  yourself  free  of  the  money-dragon?" 

Jeffard  is  afoot,  tramping  a  monotonous  sentry 
beat  between  the  wagon  and  the  fire.  His  rejoinder 
is  a  question. 

"  Do  you  know  where  James  Garvin  is  to  be 
found?" 

"  I  don't,  but  Bartrow  does." 

"  Why  did  n't  he  tell  me  ?  " 

"  Because  Dick  is  merciful.  The  man  is  a  crimi- 
nal, and  you  coidd  send  him  to  the  penitentiary." 

"  And  Dick  thought  —  and  you  have  thought  — 
that  I  would  prosecute  him.  It  was  the  natural 
inference,  I  suppose,  —  from  your  point  of  view. 
The  man  who  woidd  rob  his  partner  would  n't  stum- 
ble over  a  little  thing  like  that.  Will  it  help  you 
to  sleep  the  sounder  if  I  say  that  vengeance  is  n't 


384  THE  HELPERS 

in  me  ?  —  was  n't  in  me  even  in  the  white  heat 
of  it?" 

Lansclale  nods  assent.  "  I  'm  on  the  asking  hand, 
and  any  concession  is  grateful.  If  you  were  vindic- 
tive about  it,  I  'm  afraid  the  major  contention  would 
be  hopeless." 

"  But  as  it  is  you  do  not  despair  ?  " 

"I  am  very  far  from  despairing,  Henry.  You 
spoke  lightly  of  our  friendship  a  little  while  ago, 
and  one  time  I  shoidd  have  agreed  with  you.  But 
I  know  you  better  now,  and  the  incredibility  of  this 
thing  that  you  have  done  has  been  growing  upon 
me.  It 's  the  one  misshapen  column  in  a  fair  temple. 
Won't  you  pull  it  down  and  set  uj)  another  in  its 
place,  —  a  clean-cut  pillar  of  uprightness,  which  will 
harmonize  with  the  others  ?  " 

Jeifard  stops  short  at  the  tree-bole,  with  his  hand 
on  Lansdale's  shoulder. 

"  It  has  taken  me  five  weeks  to  find  out  why  you 
consented  to  come  afield  with  me,"  he  says.  "  It 
was  to  say  this,  was  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Just  that,"  says  Lansdale,  and  his  voice  is  the 
voice  of  one  pleading  as  a  mother  pleads.  "  Say 
you  will  do  it,  Henry  ;  if  not  for  your  own  sake  or 
mine,  for  the  sake  of  that  which  has  brought  us 
together  here." 

Jeffard  has  turned  away  again,  but  he  comes  back 
at  that  to  stand  before  Garvin's  advocate. 

"  It  is  a  small  thing  you  have  asked,  Lansdale," 
he  says,  after  a  time ;  "  much  smaller  than  you 
think.     The  pillar  is  n't  altogether  as  crooked  as  it 


THE  HELPERS  385 

looks ;  there  is  something  in  the  perspective.  You 
know  how  the  old  Greek  builders  used  to  set  the 
corner  column  out  of  the  perpendicular  to  make  it 
appear  plumb.  We  don't  always  do  that ;  sometimes 
we  can't  do  it  without  bringing  the  whole  structure 
down  about  our  ears.  But  in  this  case  your  critical 
eye  shall  be  satisfied.  We  '11  go  down  to  the  mine 
in  the  morning  and  use  Denby's  wire.  If  Bartrow 
can  find  Garvin,  you  shall  see  how  easily  the  di-agon's 
teeth  may  be  broken.  Is  that  what  you  wanted  me 
to  say?" 

Lansdale's  answer  is  a  quotation. 

" '  And  it  came  to  pass,  when  he  had  made  an 
end  of  speaking  .  .  .  that  the  soid  of  Jonathan 
was  knit  with  the  soid  of  David,  and  Jonathan 
loved  him  as  his  own  soul.'  I  've  seen  my  reward 
and  felt  of  it ;  and  yours  will  come  a  little  later,  — 
in  a  way  you  little  dream  of.  Pass  the  tobacco, 
and  let 's  have  another  whiff  or  two  before  we  turn 
in.     I  'm  too  acutely  thankful  to  be  sleepy." 

For  a  peaceful  half-hour  they  sit  before  the  glow- 
ing embers,  smoking  placidly  while  their  talk  drifts 
hither  and  yon  over  the  spent  sea  of  boyhood  and 
youth.  It  is  a  heartening  half-hour,  and  at  the  end 
of  it  Jeffard  rises  to  get  the  blankets  from  the 
wagon.  Lansdale  elects  to  sleep  at  his  tree-root, 
and  he  is  rolling  himself  in  his  blanket  when  Jeffard 
says : 

"  How  about  the  presentiment  ?  Have  we  tired 
it  out?" 

Lansdale  laughs  softly.     "  It 's   gone,"  he    says. 


386  THE   HELPERS 

"  Perhaps  it  was  nothing  more  than  an  upheaval  of 
conscience.  I  'ni  subject  to  that  when  I  've  any- 
tliing  on  my  mind.  Good-night,  and  God  bless 
you,  Henry." 

And  so  the  curtain  goes  down  upon  the  summer 
night  scene  in  the  mountain-girt  valley,  with  the 
two  men  sleeping  jjeacefully  before  the  fire,  and  the 
stars  shining  softly  in  the  patch  of  velvety  sky  over- 
head. The  midnight  ebb  of  the  snow-fed  stream 
has  set  in,  and  the  throbbing  roll  of  the  water  drum 
is  muffled.  The  fire  burns  low.  The  whispering 
leaves  are  stilled,  and  the  wind  slipping  down  from 
the  snow  coifs  sinks  to  a  sigh.  The  pinions  of  the 
night  are  folded,  and  darkness  and  murmurous  silence 
wrap  the  mantle  of  invisibility  around  the  camp  in 
the  glade. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV 

It  is  the  gray  dawTi  that  lifts  the  curtain,  and  in 
the  little  glade  where  the  two  men  slept  there  are 
three  figures,  dim  and  ghostly  in  the  morning's 
twilight.  Two  of  them  are  afoot,  heavy-eyed  and 
weary,  tramping  a  slow-paced  beat  on  the  margin 
of  the  tumbling  stream.  The  third  is  a  stiU  shape 
lying  blanket-covered  beside  the  wagon. 

"  Tell  me  about  it,  Denby,"  says  one  of  the 
watchers,  and  his  voice  breaks  in  the  saying  of  it. 
"  I  think  I  can  bear  it  now.     How  did  it  happen  ?  " 

The  master  of  men  shakes  his  head.  "  I  can't 
tell  you  anything  more  than  the  bald  fact,  Jeffard. 
I  rode  doAvn  the  trail  ahead  of  Higgins,  and  should 
have  forded  the  creek  here,  only  I  didn't  want  to 
disturb  you  two.  I  went  on  to  the  bridge,  and  in 
the  act  of  crossing  he  ran  down  the  bank  on  this 
side,  calling  to  me  to  go  back.  It  was  too  late.  I 
had  barely  time  to  get  free  of  the  stirrups  when  we 
were  into  it,  —  the  two  of  us  and  the  horse.  It  is  n't 
more  than  three  or  four  feet  deep,  as  you  know,  but 
I  knew  it  meant  death  if  we  went  into  the  mill  tail 
below.  I  lost  my  grip  and  was  gone  when  he  grap- 
pled me.  I  don't  know  yet  how  he  came  to  save  my 
life  and  lose  liis  own." 

"  It  was  to  be,"  says  Jeffard,  brokenly.      "  When 


388  THE   HELPERS 

I  reached  you  he  was  holding  you  up  with  one  hand 
and  dinging  to  the  bridge  stringer  with  the  other. 
His  weight  and  yours  with  the  rush  of  the  water 
liad  pushed  the  timber  down,  and  his  head  was 
under." 

Two  other  turns  they  make,  and  then  Jeffard 
says,  with  awe  in  his  voice,  "  He  knew  about  it 
beforehand,  Denby,"  and  he  tells  Lansdale's  dream. 

Denby  hears  him  through  without  interrupting, 
but  at  the  end  of  it  he  says,  gently :  "  It  was  n't  a 
di"eam.  Higgins  was  overdue  with  the  team  from 
Aspen,  and  I  went  out  to  see  what  had  become  of 
him.  I  passed  here  on  my  way  up  the  trail  about 
nine  o'clock,  and  you  were  both  asleep  then.  I  had 
crossed  by  the  lower  ford  and  found  it  pretty  bad, 
so  I  turned  back  from  here  and  rode  down  to  see 
if  the  bridge  was  all  right.  He  saw  me  and  heard 
me. 

Jeffard's  gesture  is  of  unconvincement. 

"  That  accounts  for  part  of  it,"  he  says  ;  "  but 
I  shall  always  believe  he  foresaw  his  death  and  the 
manner  of  it." 

After  that  they  pace  up  and  down  in  silence 
again,  treading  out  the  sorrowful  watch  until  day- 
light is  fully  come,  bringing  with  it  a  team  from  the 
mine  and  men  to  do  what  remains  to  be  done.  The 
two  stand  apart  until  the  men  have  done  their 
office,  falling  in  to  walk  softly  behind  the  wagon 
on  the  short  journey  down  the  valley  to  the  mine 
settlement.  On  the  way,  Jeffard  accounts  for  him- 
self briefly. 


THE   HELPERS  389 

"  He  was  one  of  the  two  best  friends  I  had  in  the 
world,"  he  says.  "  I  had  him  out  on  a  camping 
holiday  for  his  health,  and  he  was  gaining  day  by 
day.  We  were  counting  upon  dropping  in  on  you 
this  morning,  and  now  "  — 

"  I  know,"  says  the  master.  "  He  gave  his  life 
for  mine,  and  it  gets  pretty  near  to  me,  too."  And 
thereafter  they  keep  step  with  heads  bowed  and 
eyes  downcast,  as  those  in  whom  sorrow  has  mur- 
dered speech ;  and  the  bellowing  stream  at  the  trail- 
side  thunders  a  requiem  for  its  victim. 

The  setting  sun  is  crimsoning  the  eastern  snow 
caps  while  they  are  burying  him  on  the  plateau 
above  the  mine  settlement.  An  hour  later,  the 
master  of  men  and  the  master  of  the  mine  are  met 
together  in  the  log  cabin  opposite  the  great  gray 
dump  ;  in  the  cabin  builded  by  Garvin,  but  which 
now  serves  as  the  office  of  the  superintendent  of 
the  Midas.  Sorrow  still  sits  between,  and  Denby 
would  give  place  to  it, 

"  Put  it  off  till  to-morrow,  Jeffard,"  he  says. 
"Neither  of  us  is  fit  to  talk  business  to-night." 

"  No,  it  must  n't  be  put  off.  I  gave  him  my  pro- 
mise, and  I  mean  to  make  it  good  while  time 
serves.  Have  you  any  one  here  who  is  competent 
to  witness  a  legal  document  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;   Halsey  is  a  notary  public." 

"  Good.  Sit  down  at  that  desk  and  draw  up  a 
writing  transferring  my  interest  in  the  Midas  to 
Stephen  Elliott  and  Richard  Bartrow,  trustees." 

"  What 's  that  ?     Trustees  for  whom  ?  " 


390  THE   HELPERS 

"  For  James  Garvin." 

The  master  of  men  leans  back  in  his  chair,  his 
eyes  narrowing  and  the  little  frown  of  perplexity 
radiating  fan-like  above  them. 

"  Jeffard,  do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  are  going 
to  step  aside  in  favor  of  the  man  who  tried  to  kill 
you?" 

"  You  may  put  it  that  way,  if  you  choose.  It 
would  have  been  done  long  ago  if  I  had  been  able  to 
find  the  man." 

"  And  you  stepped  into  the  breach  a  year  ago 
and  secured  his  property  for  him  because  he  had 
put  himseK  out  of  the  running  and  could  n't? 
You  've  touched  me  on  the  raw,  Jeffard.  It 's  my 
business  to  size  people  up,  and  you  have  fairly  out- 
flanked me.  A  blind  man  might  have  seen  the 
drift  of  it,  but  I  did  n't ;  I  thought  you  had  robbed 
liim.     Why  did  n't  you  give  it  a  name  ?  " 

"  I  had  no  thought  of  concealment  until  you 
warned  me.  Garvin  was  a  criminal  in  the  eye  of 
the  law,  and  the  least  I  could  do  for  him  was  to 
turn  the  tide  of  pubhc  opinion  in  his  favor." 

"■  Well,  you  did  it ;  but  just  the  same,  you  might 
have  passed  the  word  to  me.  It  w^ould  n't  have 
gone  any  farther,  and  I  should  have  felt  a  good  bit 
easier  in  my  mind." 

"  Perhaps  ;  but  you  will  pardon  me  if  I  say  that  I 
was  n't  considering  you  in  the  matter.  I  knew  bet- 
ter than  to  defeat  my  own  end.  If  I  had  told  you 
the  truth  at  the  time,  you  would  not  have  believed 
it ;    you  would  have  struck  hands  with  your    own 


THE  HELPERS  391 

theory  that  Garvin  had  attempted  to  rob  me,  and 
you  would  have  talked  and  acted  accordingly." 

"  What  makes  you  say  I  would  n't  have  believed 
the  truth.?  " 

"  It  would  have  been  merely  a  declaration  of 
intention  at  the  time,  and  you  would  have  said  that 
it  did  n't  sqiiare  with  human  nature  as  you  know  it. 
Bartrow  knew,  and  he  went  over  to  the  majority. 
But  that  is  neither  here  nor  there.  Will  you  draw 
up  the  writing-?" 

Denby  goes  to  the  desk  and  writes  out  the 
transfer,  following  Jeffard's  dictation.  When  it  is 
signed  and  acknowledged,  Jeffard  slips  his  final 
anchor. 

"  I  presume  you  will  want  to  make  a  new  operat- 
ing contract  with  the  trustees,  or  with  Garvin,  and 
in  that  case  you  will  want  to  cancel  the  old  one. 
I  have  n't  my  copy  of  it  with  me,  but  I  '11  mail  it  to 
you  when  I  get  back  to  Denver." 

Denby  is  making  a  pretense  of  rummaging  in  the 
pigeonholes  of  the  desk  to  cover  a  small  struggle 
which  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  superintendent's 
files.  When  the  struggle  is  fought  to  a  finish,  he 
turns  suddenly  and  holds  out  his  hand. 

"  Jeffard,  that  night  when  we  wrangled  it  out 
up  yonder  on  the  old  dump  I  said  some  things  that 
I  should  n't  have  said  if  you  had  seen  fit  to  be  a 
little  franker  with  me.     Will  you  forget  them?  " 

JefPard  takes  the  proffered  hand  and  wrings  it 
gratefully.  "Thank  you  for  that,  Denby,"  he 
says ;  "  it 's  timely.     I  feel  as  if  I  'd  like  to  drop 


392  THE   HELPERS 

out  and  turn  up  on  some  other  planet.  This  thmg 
has  cost  lue  pretty  dear,  one  way  with  another." 

"  It  '11  come  out  all  right  in  the  end,"  asserts  the 
master ;  and  then :  "  But  you  must  n't  forget  that 
the  cost  of  it  is  partly  of  your  own  incurring.  It 's 
a  rare  failing,  but  there  is  such  a  thing  as  being  too 
close-mouthed.  You  've  made  out  your  case,  after 
a  fashion,  and  I  'm  not  going  to  appeal  it ;  but  your 
postidate  was  wrong.  Hmnan  nature  is  not  as 
mcredulous  of  good  intentions  as  the  cynics  woidd 
make  it  out  to  be.  You  might  have  told  a  few  of 
us  without  imperilling  Garvin." 

"  I  meant  to  do  it ;  as  I  say,  I  did  tell  Bartrow 
that  morning  when  I  raced  Garvin  across  the  range 
and  into  Aspen.  But  he  and  every  one  else  drew 
the  other  conclusion,  and  I  was  too  stubborn  to 
plead  my  own  cause.  The  stubbornness  became  a 
mania  with  me  after  a  time,  and  I  had  a  fit  of  it 
no  longer  ago  than  last  night.  I  let  Lansdale  die 
believing  that  he  had  argiied  me  into  promising  to 
make  restitution.  We  were  coming  dowTi  here  to- 
day to  set  the  thing  in  train,  and,  of  course,  he 
woidd  have  learned  the  whole  truth ;  but  for  one 
night  —  " 

"  For  one  night  you  would  let  him  have  the  com- 
fort of  believing  that  he  had  brought  it  about,"  says 
Denby,  quickly.  "  That  was  n't  what  you  were 
going  to  say,  but  it 's  the  truth,  and  you  know  it. 
I  know  the  feel  of  it ;  you  've  reached  the  point 
where  you  can  get  some  sort  of  comfort  out  of  hold- 
ing your    finger   in  the  fii*e.     Suppose  you   begin 


THE   HELPERS  393 

right  here  and  now  to  take  a  little  saner  view  of 
things.     What  are  your  plans  ?  " 

"I  haven't  any." 

"  Are  you  open  to  an  offer  ?  " 

"  From  you  ?  —  yes." 

"  Good.  I  'm  unlucky  enough  to  have  some  min- 
ing property  in  Mexico,  and  I  've  got  to  go  down 
there  and  set  it  in  order,  or  send  some  one  to  do  it 
for  me.     Will  you  go  ?  " 

Jeffard's  reply  is  promptly  acquiescent. 

"  Gladly;  if  you  think  I  am  competent." 

"  I  don't  think,  —  I  know.  Can  you  start  at 
short  notice  ?  " 

"  The  sooner  the  better.  I  said  I  should  like  to 
drop  out  and  turn  up  on  some  other  planet :  that 
will  be  the  next  thing  to  it." 

From  that  the  talk  goes  overland  to  the  affairs  of 
a  century-old  silver  mine  in  the  Cliihuahuan  moun- 
tains, and  at  the  end  of  it  Jeffard  knows  what  is 
to  be  done  and  how  he  is  to  go  about  the  doing  of  it. 
Deuby  ya\\T3s  and  looks  at  his  watch. 

"  It 's  bedtime,"  he  says.  "  Shall  we  consider  it 
settled  and  go  over  to  the  bunk-shack  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  letter  to  write,"  says  Jeffard.  "  Don't 
wait  for  me." 

"  All  right.  You  '11  find  what  you  need  in  the 
desk,  —  top  drawer  on  the  right.  Come  over  when 
you  get  ready,"  and  the  promoter  leaves  his  late 
owner  in  possession  of  the  superintendent's  office. 

Judging  from  the  number  of  false  starts  and  torn 
sheets,  the  writing  of  the  letter  proves  to  be  no  easy 


394  THE  HELPERS 

matter ;  but  it  is  begun,  continued,  and  ended  at 
length,  and  Jeffard  sits  back  to  read  it  over. 

"  My  dear  Bartrow  : 

"  When  this  reaches  you,  you  will  have  had  my 
telegram  of  to-day  telling  you  all  there  is  to  tell 
about  Laiisdale's  death.  You  must  forgive  me  if  I 
don't  repeat  myself  here.  It  is  too  new  a  wound  — 
and  too  deep  —  to  bear  probing,  even  with  a  pen. 

"  What  I  have  to  say  in  this  letter  will  probably 
surprise  you.  Last  night,  in  ovir  last  talk  together, 
Lansdale  told  me  that  you  know  Garvin's  where- 
abouts. Acting  upon  that  information,  I  have  to- 
night executed  a  transfer  of  the  Midas  to  yourself 
and  Stephen  Elliott,  trustees  for  Garvin.  By  agree- 
ment with  Denby,  I  cancel  my  working  contract  with 
him,  and  you,  or  Garvin,  can  make  another  for  the 
unexpired  portion  of  the  year  on  the  same  terms,  — 
which  is  Denby' s  due.  You  will  find  the  accrued 
earnings  of  the  mine  from  the  day  of  my  first  settle- 
ment with  Denby  deposited  in  the  Denver  bank  in 
an  account  which  I  opened  some  months  ago  in  the 
names  of  yourself  and  Elliott,  trustees.  Out  of  the 
earnings  I  have  withheld  my  wages  as  a  workman  in 
the  mine  last  winter,  and  a  moderate  charge  for 
caretaking  since. 

"  That  is  all  I  have  to  say,  I  think,  unless  I  add 
that  you  are  partly  responsible  for  the  delay  in  Gar- 
vin's remstatement.  If  you  had  trusted  me  suffi- 
ciently to  tell  me  what  you  told  Lansdale,  it  would 
have  saved   time  and  money,  inasmuch  as  I  have 


THE  HELPERS  395 

spared  neither  in  the  effort  to  trace  Garvin.  I  told 
you  the  truth  that  morning  in  Leadville,  but  it 
seems  that  your  loyalty  was  n't  quite  equal  to  the 
strain  put  upon  it  by  public  rumor.  I  don't  blame 
you  greatly.  I  know  I  had  done  what  a  man  may 
to  forfeit  the  respect  of  his  friends.  But  I  made 
the  mistake  of  taking  it  for  granted  that,  you  and 
Lansdale,  and  possibly  one  other,  would  still  give 
me  credit  for  common  honesty,  and  when  I  found 
that  you  did  n't  it  made  me  bitter,  and  I  '11  be  frank 
enough  to  say  that  I  have  n't  gotten  over  it  yet." 

The  letter  pauses  with  the  little  outflash  of  resent- 
ment, and  he  takes  the  pen  to  sign  it.  But  in  the 
act  he  adds  another  paragraph. 

"  That  is  putting  it  rather  harshly,  and  just  now 
I  'm  not  in  the  mood  to  quarrel  with  any  one  ;  and 
least  of  all  with  you.  I  am  going  away  to  be  gone 
indefinitely,  and  I  don't  want  to  give  you  a  buffet 
by  way  of  leave-taking.  But  the  fact  remains.  If 
you  can  admit  it  and  still  believe  that  the  old-time 
friendship  is  yet  alive  in  me,  I  wish  you  would. 
And  if  you  dare  take  word  from  me  to  Miss  Elliott, 
I  'd  be  glad  if  you  would  say  to  her  that  my  sorrow 
for  what  has  happened  is  second  only  to  hers." 

The  letter  is  signed,  sealed,  and  addressed,  and  he 
drops  it  into  the  mail-box.  The  lamp  is  flaring  in 
the  night  wind  sifting  in  through  the  loosened  chink- 
ing, and  he  extinguishes  it  and  goes  out  to  tramp 


396  THE  HELPERS 

himself  weary  in  the  little  cleared  space  which  had 
once  been  Garvin's  dooryard.  It  is  a  year  and  a 
day  since  he  wore  out  the  midwatch  of  that  other 
summer  night  on  the  eve  of  the  f ortlif aring  from  the 
valley  of  dry  hones,  and  he  recalls  it  and  the  im- 
passioned outburst  which  went  to  the  ending  of  it. 
Again  he  turns  his  face  toward  the  far-away  city 
of  the  plain,  but  this  time  his  eyes  are  dim  when 
the  reiterant  thought  shps  into  speech.  "  God  help 
me  !  "  he  says.  "  How  can  I  ever  go  to  her  and  tell 
her  that  I  have  failed !  " 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

The  news  of  Lansdale's  death  came  with  the 
shock  of  the  unexpected  to  the  dwellers  in  the  meta- 
morphosed cabin  on  the  upslope  of  Topeka  Mountain, 
albeit  no  one  of  the  three  of  them  had  ventured  to 
hope  for  anything  more  than  a  reprieve  as  the  out- 
come of  the  jaunt  afield.  But  the  manner  of  his 
death  at  the  time  when  the  reprieve  seemed  well 
assured  was  responsible  for  the  shock  and  its  sorrow- 
ful aftermath ;  and  if  Constance  grieved  more  than 
Bartrow  or  her  cousin,  it  was  only  for  the  reason 
that  the  heart  of  compassion  knows  best  the  bitter- 
ness of  infruition. 

"  It 's  a  miserably  comfortless  saying  to  offer  you, 
Connie,  dear,  but  we  must  try  to  believe  it  is  for  the 
best,"  said  Myra,  finding  Constance  re-reading  Jef- 
fard's  telegram  by  the  hght  of  her  bedroom  lamp. 

Constance  put  her  arms  about  her  cousin's  neck, 
and  the  heart  of  compassion  overflowed.  " '  For 
unto  every  one  that  hath  shall  be  given,  but  from 
him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken  away  even  that 
which  he  hath,'  "  she  sobbed.  "  Of  all  the  things 
he  had  set  his  heart  upon  Hfe  was  the  least,  —  was 
only  the  means  to  an  end :  and  even  that  was  taken 
from  him." 

"  No,  not  taken,  Connie ;  he  gave  it,  and  gave  it 


398  THE  HELPERS 

freely.  He  did  for  another  what  his  friend  was 
trying  to  do  for  him." 

At  the  reference  to  Jeffard,  Constance  went  to 
stand  before  the  crackling  fire  of  fir-splinters  on  the 
hearth.  After  a  time  she  said :  "  Do  you  suppose 
Mr.  Jeffard  will  come  here  to  tell  us  about  it  ?  " 

Myra's  answer  was  a  query. 

"  Does  he  know  you  are  here  ?  " 

"  No,  I  think  not." 

"  Then  he  will  be  more  likely  to  go  to  Denver." 

Connie's  gaze  was  in  the  fire,  and  she  swerved 
aside  from  the  straight  path  of  inference. 

"  He  will  write  to  Dick,"  she  said.  "  I  should 
like  to  read  the  letter  when  it  comes,  if  I  may." 

Myra  promised,  and  so  it  rested  ;  but  when  Jef- 
fard's  letter  came,  and  Bartrow  had  shared  its 
astounding  news  with  his  wife,  Myi'a  was  for  rescind- 
ing her  promise. 

"  I  don't  know  why  she  should  n't  read  it,"  said 
Dick.  "  She  has  always  been  more  or  less  interested 
in  him,  and  it  will  do  her  a  whole  lot  of  good  to 
know  that  we  were  all  off  wrong.  Jeffard's  little 
slap  at  me  liits  her,  too,  but  she  won't  mind  that." 

"  No,"  said  Myra  ;  "  I  was  thinking  of  something 
else,  —  something  quite  different." 

"  Is  it  say  able  ?  " 

They  were  sitting  on  the  steps  of  the  extended 
porch.  The  night-shift  was  at  work  in  the  Myi-iad 
below,  and  the  rattle  and  clank  of  a  dump-car  com- 
ing out  postponed  her  answer.  When  the  clangor 
subsided  she  glanced  over  her  shoulder. 


THE  HELPERS  399 

"  She  can't  hear,"  said  Bartrow.  "  She  's  in  the 
sitting-room  reading  to  Uncle  Steve." 

"  I  'm  not  sure  that  it  is  sayable,  Dick.  But  for 
the  last  two  days  I  've  been  wondering  if  we  were  n't 
mistaken  about  something  else,  too,  —  about  Connie's 
feeling  for  Mr.  Lansdale.  She  is  sorry,  but  not 
quite  in  the  way  I  expected  she  would  be." 

"  What  has  that  got  to  do  with  Jeffard's  letter  ?  " 
demanded  the  downright  one.  His  transijlantings 
of  perspicacity  were  not  yet  sufficiently  acclimated 
to  bloom  out  of  season. 

"Nothing,  perhaps."  She  gave  it  up  as  unspeak- 
able, and  went  to  the  details  of  the  business  affair. 
"  Shall  you  tell  Garvin  at  once?" 

"  Sure." 

"  How  foi-timate  it  is  that  he  and  Uncle  Stephen 
came  in  to-day." 

"Yes.  They  were  staked  for  another  month,  and 
I  did  n't  look  for  them  until  they  were  di-iven  in 
for  more  grub.  But  Garvin  says  the  old  man  is 
about  played  out.  He 's  too  old.  He  can't  stand 
the  pick  and  shovel  in  tliis  altitude  at  his  age. 
We  '11  have  to  talk  liim  out  of  it  and  run  him  back 
to  Denver  some  way  or  other." 

"  Can't  you  make  this  trusteeship  an  excuse  ?  If 
Garvin  needed  a  guardian  at  first,  he  wdll  doubtless 
need  one  now." 

Bartrow  nodded  thoughtfully.  Another  car  was 
coming  out,  and  he  waited  until  the  crash  of  the 
falhng  ore  had  come  and  gone. 

"  Jeffard  laiew  what  he  was  about  all  the  time : 


400  THE   HELPERS 

knew  it  when  lie  wrote  this  letter  just  as  well  as 
he  did  when  he  shouldered  the  curse  of  it  to  keep 
a  possible  lynching  party  from  hanging  Garvin. 
That 's  why  he  put  it  in  trust.  He  knew  Garvin 
had  gone  daft  and  thrown  it  away  once,  and  he  was 
afraid  he  might  do  it  again." 

«  Will  he  ?  "  asked  the  wife. 

"  I  guess  not.  I  believe  he  has  learned  his  lesson. 
More  than  that,  Jim  's  as  soft  as  mush  on  the  side 
next  the  old  man.  If  I  can  make  out  to  tie  Uncle 
Steve's  welfare  up  in  the  deal,  Garvin  will  come  to 
the  fi-ont  like  a  man." 

"  Where  is  Garvin  now  ?  " 

"  He  is  down  at  the  bmik-house." 

Myra  rose.  "  I  suppose  you  want  to  get  it  over 
with.     Let  me  have  the  letter,  if  you  won't  need  it." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Carry  Connie  off  to  her  room  and  keep  her  busy 
with  this  while  you  and  Uncle  Stephen  fight  it  out 
with  the  new  millionaire,"  she  said.  "  I  don't  envy 
you  your  part  of  it." 

Bartrow  laughed,  and  the  transplantings  put  forth 
a  late  shoot. 

"  Come  to  thmk  of  it,  I  don't  know  as  I  envy 
you  yours,"  he  retorted.  "  She  's  all  broke  up  about 
Uncle  Steve's  health  and  Lansdale's  death  now,  and 
she  '11  have  a  fit  when  she  finds  out  how  she  has  been 
piling  it  on  to  Jeffard  when  he  did  n't  deserve  it." 

It  was  an  hour  later,  and  the  day-men  smoking 
on  the  porch  of  the  boarding-house  had  gone  to  bed, 
when  the  husband  and  wife  met  again  midway  of 


THE   HELPERS  401 

the  path  leading  up  from  the  shaft -house  of  the 
Myriad  to  the  metamorphosed  cabin.  Bartrow  had 
walked  down  to  the  boarding-house  with  Garvin, 
and  Myi'a's  impatience  had  sent  her  down  the  path 
to  meet  him.  Dick  gave  her  his  arm  up  the  steep 
ascent,  and  drew  her  to  a  seat  on  the  lowest  of  the 
porch  steps. 

"  Where  is  Connie  ?  "  he  inquired,  anticipating  an 
avalanche  of  questions,  out  of  which  he  would  have 
to  dig  his  way  without  fear  of  interruption. 

"  She  is  with  her  father.  Begin  at  the  beginning, 
and  tell  me  all  about  it.  What  did  Garvin  say? 
Is  he  going  to  be  sensible  ?  " 

"  There  is  n't  so  much  to  tell  as  there  might  be," 
Dick  said,  smothering  a  mighty  prompting  to  tell 
the  major  fact  fu"st.  "  Garvin  took  it  very  sensibly, 
though  a  body  could  see  that  the  lamplight  was  a 
good  bit  too  strong  for  his  eyes.  He  had  to  try 
three  or  four  times  before  he  could  speak,  and  then 
all  he  could  say  was  '  Thirds,  Steve,  thirds.'  " 

"  '  Thirds  ?  '     What  did  he  mean  by  that  ?  " 

Bartrow  hesitated  for  a  moment,  as  a  gunner  who 
would  make  sure  of  the  priming  before  he  jerks  the 
lanyard. 

"  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  any  one  else  besides 
Garvin  and  Jeffard  might  be  interested  in  the 
Midas?" 

"  Why,  no  !  " 

"  It  did  n't  to  me.  I  don't  know  why,  but  I 
never  thought  of  it,  though  I  knew  well  enough  that 
Jim  never  in  all  his  life  went  prospecting  on  a  grub- 


402  THE   HELPERS 

stake  of  his  own  providing.  He  did  n't  that  summer 
thi-ee  years  ago  when  he  drove  the  tunnel  on  the 
Midas." 

Myra's  lips  were  diy,  and  she  had  to  moisten 
them  to  say,  "  Who  was  it,  Dick  ?  " 

"  Who  shoidd  it  be  but  our  good  old  Uncle  Steve  ? 
Of  course,  he  'd  forgotten  all  about  it,  and  there  he 
stood,  wringing  Garvin's  hand  and  trying  to  con- 
gratulate him ;  and  Jim  hanging  on  to  the  back  of 
his  chair  and  saying,  '  Thirds,  Steve,  I  say  thirds.' 
Garvin  made  him  understand  at  last,  and  then  the 
old  man  melted  down  into  his  chair  and  put  liis  face 
in  his  hands.  When  he  took  it  out  again  it  was  to 
look  up  and  say,  '  You  're  right,  Jim  ;  of  course  it 's 
thirds,'  and  then  he  asked  me  where  JefPard  was." 

Myra's  voice  was  unsteady,  but  she  made  shift  to 
say  what  there  was  to  be  said ;  and  Bartrow  went 
on. 

"  After  a  bit  we  got  down  to  business  and  straight- 
ened things  out.  A  third  interest  in  the  Midas  is 
to  be  set  apart  for  Jeffard,  to  be  rammed  down  his 
throat  when  we  fuid  him,  whether  he  will  or  no. 
Uncle  Steve  will  go  back  to  Denver  and  set  up 
housekeeping  again  ;  and  Garvin,  —  but  that 's  the 
funny  part  of  the  whole  shooting-match.  Garvin 
refuses  to  touch  a  dollar  of  the  money  as  owner ;  in- 
sists on  leaving  it  in  trust,  just  as  it  is  now ;  and 
made  me  sit  down  there  and  then  and  write  his 
wiU." 

An  outcoming  car  of  ore  drowned  Myra's  exclama- 
tion of  surprise. 


THE   HELPERS  403 

"  Fact,"  said  Bartrow.  "  He  reserves  an  income 
to  be  paid  to  him  at  Uncle  Steve's  discretion  and 
mine,  and  at  his  death  his  third  goes,  —  to  whom, 
do  you  suppose  ?  " 

"  Lideed,  I  can't  imagine,  —  unless  it  is  to  Con- 
nie." 

"  Not  much  !  It 's  to  be  held  in  trust  for  Mar- 
garet Gannon's  children." 

"  For  Margaret,  —  why,  she  has  n't  any  children ! 
And  besides,  he  does  n't  know  her  !  " 

"  Don't  you  fool  yourself.  He  knows  she  has  n't 
any  children,  but  he  's  living  in  hopes.  I  told  you 
there  was  something  between  them  from  the  way 
Garvin  turned  in  and  nursed  the  old  blacksmith 
before  Margaret  came.  You  wouldn't  believe  it, 
because  they  both  played  the  total-stranger  act ;  but 
that  was  one  time  when  I  got  ahead  of  you,  was  n't 
it?" 

"  Yes  ;  go  on." 

"  Well,  I  made  out  the  will,  '  I,  James  Garvin, 
being  of  sound  mind,'  and  so  on ;  and  Uncle  Steve 
and  I  witnessed  it.  But  on  the  way  down  to  the 
bunk-shanty  just  now  I  pinned  Garvin  up  against 
the  waU  and  made  him  teU  me  why.  He  knew 
Margaret  when  she  was  in  the  Bijou,  and  asked  her 
to  marry  him.  She  was  honest  enough  even  then  to 
refuse  him.  It  made  me  want  to  weep  when  I  re- 
membered how  she  had  been  mixed  up  with  Jeffard." 

Myra  was  silent  for  a  full  minute,  and  when  she 
spoke  it  was  out  of  the  depths  of  a  contrite  heart. 

"  I  made  you  believe  that,   Dick,  against  your 


404  THE  HELPERS 

will;  and  you  were  right,  after  all.  Mr.  Jeffard 
was  only  trying  to  help  Connie's  poor  people  through 
Margaret,  though  why  he  should  do  that  when  he 
was  withholding  a  fortune  from  Uncle  Stephen  is 
still  a  mystery." 

"  That  is  as  simple  as  twice  two,"  said  the  hus- 
band. "  Did  n't  I  tell  you  ?  Garvin  had  no  occa- 
sion to  tell  him  who  his  grub-staker  was  in  the  fii*st 
place,  and  no  chance  to  do  it  afterward.  Jeffard 
did  n't  know,  —  does  n't  know  yet." 

Myra  went  sUent  again,  this  time  for  more  than  a 
minute. 

"  I  have  learned  something,  too,  Dick ;  but  I  am 
not  sure  that  I  ought  to  tell  it,"  she  said,  after  the 
interval. 

"  I  can  wait,"  said  Bartrow  cheerfully.  "  I  've 
had  a  full  meal  of  double-back-action  surprises  as  it 
is." 

"  This  is  n't  a  surprise  ;  or  it  would  n't  be  if  we 
hadn't  been  taking  too  much  for  granted.  I  tolled 
Connie  off  to  her  room  with  the  letter,  as  I  said  I 
would  ;  and  she —  she  had  a  fit,  as  you  prophesied." 

"  Of  course,"  says  Dick.  "  It  hurts  her  more 
than  anything  to  make  a  miscue  on  the  charitable 
side." 

"  Yes,  but  "— 

"But  what?" 

"  I  '11  tell  you  sometime,  Dick,  but  not  now.  It 
is  too  pitifid." 

"  I  can  wait,"  said  Bartrow  again  ;  and  his  lack  of 
curiosity  drove  her  into  the  thick  of  it. 


THE   HELPERS  405 

"  If  you  knew  you  'd  want  to  do  something,  —  as 
I  do,  only  I  don't  know  how.  Is  n't  it  pretty  clear 
that  Mr.  Jeffard  cares  a  great  deal  for  Connie?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that.  What  makes  you 
think  so?"  says  the  obvious  one. 

"  A  good  many  little  things  ;  some  word  or  two 
that  Margaret  has  let  slip,  for  one  of  them.  How 
otherwise  would  you  explain  his  eagerness  to  help 
Connie?" 

"  On  general  principles,  I  guess.  She 's  plenty 
good  enough  to  warrant  it." 

"  Yes,  but  it  was  n't  '  general  principles  '  in  Mr. 
JefPard's  case.     He  is  in  love  with  Connie,  and  "  — 

"  And  she  does  n't  care  for  him.     Is  that  it  ?  " 

"  No,  it  is  n't  it ;  she  does  care  for  him.  I  fairly 
shocked  it  out  of  her  with  the  letter,  and  that  is  why 
I  ought  n't  to  tell  it,  even  to  you.     It  is  too  pitiful !" 

Bartrow  shook  his  head  in  cheerful  density. 
"  Your  philosophy 's  too  deep  for  me.  If  they  are 
both  of  one  mind,  as  you  say,  I  don't  see  where  the 
pity  comes  in.  Jeffard  is  n't  half  good  enough  for 
her,  of  course ;  he  made  a  baUy  idiot  of  himself  a 
year  ago.  But  if  she  can  forget  that,  I  'm  sure  we 
ought  to." 

"  I  was  n't  thinking  of  that.  But  don't  you  see 
how  impossible  this  Midas  tangle  makes  it?  He 
won't  take  his  tliird,  you  may  be  very  sure  of  that ; 
and  when  he  finds  out  that  Connie  has  a  daughter's 
share  in  one  of  the  other  thirds,  it  wiU  seal  his  lips 
for  all  time.  People  would  say  that  he  gave  up  his 
share  only  to  marry  hers." 


406  THE   HELPERS 

Bartrow  got  upon  his  feet  and  helped  her  to  rise. 
"  You  '11  take  cold  sitting  out  here  in  the  ten-thou- 
sand-foot night,"  he  said;  and  on  the  top  step  of 
the  poreh-flight  she  had  his  refutation  of  her  latest 
assertion. 

"  You  say  people  would  talk.  Does  n't  it  strike 
you  that  Jeffard  is  the  one  man  in  a  thousand  who 
will  mount  and  ride  regardless  ?  —  who  will  smile 
and  snap  his  fingers  at  public  opinion  ?  That 's  just 
what  he 's  been  doing  all  along,  and  he  '11  do  it  again 
if  he  feels  hke  it.  Let 's  go  in  and  congratulate  the 
good  old  uncle  while  we  wait." 


CHAPTER   XXXVI 

The  day  train  from  the  south  ran  into  the  early 
winter  twilight  at  Acequia,  and  into  the  night  at 
Littleton ;  and  the  arc  stars  of  the  city,  resplendent 
with  frosty  aureoles,  were  brightly  scintillant  when 
Jeffard  gave  his  hand-bag  to  the  porter  and  passed 
out  through  the  gate  at  the  Union  Depot.  By  tele- 
graphic prearrangement,  he  was  to  meet  Denby  in 
Denver  to  make  his  rej^ort  upon  the  Cliihuahuan 
silver  mine  ;  but  when  he  made  inquiry  at  the  hotel 
he  was  not  sorry  to  find  that  the  promoter  had  not 
yet  arrived.  It  is  a  far  cry  from  Santa  Rosaha  to 
Denver ;  as  far  as  from  the  beginning  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  to  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  ;  and  he 
was  grateful  for  a  little  breathing  space  in  which 
to  synchronize  himself. 

But  after  dinner,  and  a  cigar  burned  frugally  in 
the  great  rotunda,  where  the  faces  of  all  the  comers 
and  goers  were  unfamiliar,  the  homesickness  of  the 
returned  exile  came  upon  liim,  and  he  went  out  to 
grapple  with  it  in  the  open  air.  Faring  absently 
from  street  to  street,  with  his  hands  thrust  into  his 
overcoat  pockets  and  memory  plowing  its  furrow 
deep  in  a  field  which  had  lain  fallow  through  many 
toil-filled  weeks,  he  presently  fomid  himself  drifting 
by  squares  and  street-crossings  toward  Capitol  Hill, 


408  THE   HELPERS 

and  out  and  beyond  to  a  broad  avenue  and  past  a 
house  with  a  veranda  in  front  and  a  deep-bayed 
window  at  the  side.  There  were  lights  in  the  house, 
and  an  air  of  owner's  occupancy  about  the  place ; 
and  on  the  veranda  a  big  man  w  as  tramping  solidly 
up  and  down,  with  the  red  spark  at  the  end  of  his 
cigar  appearing  and  disappearing  as  he  passed  and 
repassed  the  windows. 

Jeffard  saw  the  man  and  saw  him  not.  The 
memory-plow  had  gone  deeper,  and  the  winter  night 
changed  places  watli  a  June  morning,  wdth  the  sun 
shining  aslant  on  the  wide  veranda,  and  a  young 
woman  in  a  belted  house-gown  with  loose  sleeves  tip- 
toeing on  the  arm  of  a  clumsy  chair  while  she 
caught  up  the  new  growth  of  a  climbing  rose.  Just 
here  the  plow  began  to  tear  up  rootlets  well-buried 
but  still  sensitive  ;  and  Jeffard  turned  about  abruptly 
and  set  his  face  cityward. 

But  once  again  m  the  region  of  tall  buildings  and 
peopled  sidewalks,  the  thought  of  the  crowded  lobby 
and  the  loneliness  of  it  assailed  him  afresh,  and 
he  changed  his  course  again,  being  careful  to  go  at 
riffht  anoles  to  the  broad  avenue  with  its  house  of 
recollection.  A  little  way  beyond  the  peopled  walks 
the  church  bells  began  to  ring  out  clear  and  melodi- 
ous on  the  frosty  air,  and  he  remembered  what  the 
uncalendared  journey  had  made  hun  forget ;  that  it 
was  Sunday.  Pacing  thoughtfully,  with  the  transit- 
hum  of  the  city  behind  him  and  the  quiet  house- 
streets  ahead,  and  the  plow  still  shearing  the  sod 
of  the  fallow  field,  he  wondered  if  Constance  Elliott 


THE  HELPERS  409 

would  be  among  the  churchgoers.  It  was  an  up- 
flash  of  the  old  cynicism  which  j^rompted  the  retort 
that  it  was  improbable  ;  that  the  Christianity  for 
which  she  stood  was  not  found  in  the  churches.  But 
the  Puritan  blood  in  him  rose  up  in  protest  at  that, 
and  in  the  rebound  the  open  doors  of  a  church  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  way  beckoned  him. 

He  crossed  the  street  and  entered.  The  organist 
was  playing  the  voluntary,  and  a  smart  young  man 
with  a  tuberose  in  his  buttonhole  held  up  the  finger 
of  invitation. 

"  Not  too  far  forward,"  Jeffard  whispered ;  but 
the  young  man  seemed  not  to  have  heard,  since  he 
led  the  way  up  the  broad  centre  aisle  to  a  pew  far 
beyond  the  strangers'  precinct. 

The  pew  was  unoccupied,  and  Jeffard  went  deep 
into  it,  meaning  to  be  well  out  of  the  way  of  later 
comers.  But  when  the  finale  of  the  voluntary 
merged  by  harmonious  transpositions  into  the  key 
of  the  opening  hjnnn,  the  other  sittings  in  the  pew 
were  still  untaken,  and  Jeffard  congratidated  him- 
self. There  be  times  when  partial  isolation,  even  in 
a  sparsely  filled  church,  is  grateful ;  and  the  fur- 
rows in  the  fallow  field  were  still  smoking  from  their 
recent  upturning. 

Jeffard  stood  in  the  hymn-singing,  and  bowed  his 
head  at  the  prayer,  not  so  much  in  reverence  as  in 
deference  to  time,  place,  and  encompassments.  Since 
the  shearing  of  the  plowshare  filled  his  ears,  the 
words  of  the  beseeching  were  lost  to  him,  but  he  was 
sufficiently  alive  to  his  surroundings  to  know  that 


410  THE  HELPERS 

the  pew  filled  quietly  at  the  beginning  of  the  prayer  ; 
and  sufficiently  reserved  afterward  to  deny  himself 
so  much  as  a  glance  aside  at  liis  nearest  neighbor. 

How  long  he  would  have  sat  staring  abstractedly 
at  the  pictured  window  beyond  the  choir  must  re- 
main a  matter  for  conjecture.  The  minister  had 
given  out  the  psalm,  and  Jeffard  stood  up  Nvith  the 
others.  Whereupon  he  saw  of  necessity  that  his 
neighbor  was  a  woman,  so  small  that  the  trimmings 
on  her  modest  walking  hat  came  barely  to  his 
shoulder  ;  saw  this,  and  a  moment  later  was  look- 
ing down  into  a  pair  of  steadfast  gray  eyes,  deep- 
weUed  and  eloquent,  as  she  handed  him  an  open 
book  with  the  leaf  turned  down. 

He  took  the  book  mechanically,  with  mute  thanks, 
but  afterward  he  saw  and  heard  notliing  for  wliich 
the  evensong  in  St.  Cyril's-in-the-Desert  could  justly 
be  held  responsible,  being  lifted  to  a  seventh  heaven 
of  ecstasy  far  more  real  than  that  depicted  in 
the  glowing  periods  of  the  preacher.  He  made  the 
most  of  it,  knowing  that  it  would  presently  vanish, 
and  that  he  should  have  to  come  to  earth  again. 
And  not  by  whispered  word  or  sign  of  recognition 
would  he  mar  the  beatitude  of  it.  Only  once,  when 
he  put  aside  the  book  she  had  given  him  and  looked 
on  with  her,  did  he  suffer  himself  to  do  more  than  to 
enjoy  silently  and  to  the  full  the  sweet  pleasure  of 
her  nearness. 

Under  the  circumstances  it  was  not  singular  that 
his  by-glancings  did  not  go  beyond  her ;  and  that 
Dick  Bartrow's  hearty  handclasp  and  stage-whisper 


THE  HELPERS  411 

greeting  at  the  close  of  the  service  should  take  him 
by  surprise.  This  he  endured  as  one  in  a  dream  ; 
also  the  introduction  to  a  radiant  young  woman  with 
whom  Bartrow  presently  led  the  way  into  the  stream 
of  decorously  jostling  outgoers  pouring  down  the 
great  aisle.  That  left  Jeffard  to  follow  with  the 
small  one  ;  and  he  was  still  groping  his  way  through 
the  speechless  ravishment  of  it  when  they  overtook 
the  Bartrows  on  the  sidewalk.  Dick  promptly 
broke  the  spell. 

"  Well,  well ! "  he  began.  "  Nothing  surprises  me 
any  more ;  otherwise  I  should  say  you  are  about  the 
last  man  on  top  of  earth  that  I  'd  expect  to  run  up 
against  in  church.  Don't  say  '  same  here,'  because 
I  do  go  when  I  'm  made  to.  Where  in  the  forty- 
five  states  and  odd  territories  did  you  drop  from?" 

"  Not  from  any  one  of  them,"  laughed  Jeffard  ; 
and  Myra  remarked  that  Connie's  hand  was  still  on 
his  arm.     "  I  am  just  up  from  Old  Mexico." 

"  And  you  made  a  straight  shoot  for  a  church  — 
for  our  church  and  our  pew.  Good  boy !  You 
knew  right  where  to  find  us  on  a  Sunday  evening, 
did  n't  you  ?  " 

Jeffard  laughed  again.  Since  a  time  unremem- 
bered  of  him  it  had  not  been  so  easy  to  laugh  and  be 
glad. 

"  Don't  believe  him,  Mrs.  Bartrow,"  he  protested. 
"  My  motive  was  a  little  mixed,  I  'U  confess,  but  it 
was  altogether  better  than  that.  I  was  passing,  and 
it  occurred  to  me  that  I  had  n't  seen  the  inside  of 
an  American  church  for  a  long  time." 


412  THE  HELPERS 

"  Or  of  any  other  kind,  I  '11  be  bound,"  Bartrow 
amended ;  and  then,  in  a  spirit  of  sheer  ruthlessness : 
*'  Why  don't  you  say  something,  Connie  ?  Call  liim 
down  and  make  him  tell  the  truth  about  it." 

"  You  don't  give  any  one  a  chance  to  say  any- 
thing," retorts  the  quiet  one,  with  a  summer-light- 
ning flash  of  the  old  mock-antagonism.  And  then  to 
Jeffard :  "  We  are  all  very  glad  to  see  you  again, 
Mr.  Jeffard.     Will  you  be  in  town  long?" 

Bartrow  took  the  words  out  of  his  mouth  and  made 
answer  for  him. 

"  Of  course  he  will ;  he  is  going  to  settle  down 
and  be  home-folks  —  are  n't  you,  Jeffard  ?  Fall  in 
and  let 's  walk  to  where  we  can  wrestle  it  out  without 
freezing.  It's  colder  than  ordinary  charity  stand- 
ing here." 

Now  the  way  to  his  hotel  lay  behind  him  and  Jef- 
fard hesitated.  Whereupon  Bartrow  turned  with  a 
laugh  derisive. 

"  Come  on,  you  two.  Have  you  forgotten  the  for- 
mula, Jeffard  ?  I  '11  prompt  you,  and  you  can  say  it 
over  after  me.  '  Miss  Elliott,  may  I  have  the  plea- 
sure of  seeing  you  '  —  " 

Myra  pounced  upon  the  mocker  and  dragged  him 
away ;  and  Constance  cut  in  swiftly. 

"  You  must  n't  mind  what  Dick  says.  He  calls 
going  to  church  '  dissipation,'  and  he  is  never  quite 
responsible  afterward.  Won't  you  go  home  with  us, 
Mr.  Jeffard  ?  " 

Jeffard  murmured  something  about  a  hotel  and  an 
appointment,  but  he  had  been  waiting  only  for  an 


THE  HELPERS  413 

intimation  that  he  was  forgiven.  So  they  went  on 
together,  walking  briskly,  as  the  frosty  night  de- 
manded, but  they  were  not  able  to  overtake  the  twain 
in  advance.  For  a  time  they  were  both  tongue-tied, 
and  for  a  wonder  it  was  the  man  who  first  rose  supe- 
rior to  the  entanglements  of  memory.  But  he  was 
careful  to  choose  the  safest  of  commonplaces  for  a 
topic.  They  were  ascending  Capitol  Hill,  and  by 
way  of  a  beginning  he  said,  "Are  you  living  in 
this  part  of  the  city  now  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  in  the  old  place  on  Colfax.  Dick  ran  across 
the  owner  in  California  last  autumn  and  bought  it." 

"  It  is  a  very  pleasant  place,"  Jeffard  ventured, 
still  determined  to  keep  on  ground  of  the  safest. 

"  Do  you  know  it  ?  "  she  said,  quickly. 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  —  er  —  that  is,  I  know  where  it  is.  I 
passed  it  one  morning  a  long  time  ago." 

"  While  we  were  living  there  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

Silence  again  for  one  entire  square  and  part  of 
another.  Then  she  said,  "  How  did  you  know  it  was 
our  house  ?  " 

He  laid  hold  of  his  courage  and  told  the  truth. 
"  I  met  your  father  a  block  or  two  down  the  avenue 
and  I  was  hoping  I  might  come  upon  the  place  where 
you  Kved.  I  found  it.  You  were  on  the  veranda, 
tying  up  the  new  shoots  of  a  climbing  rose." 

"  My  '  Marechal  Niel,'  "  she  said.  "  It  is  dead 
now  ;  they  let  it  freeze  last  winter." 

He  held  his  peace  for  a  time,  but  the  rejoinder 
strove  for  speech,  and  had  it,  finally. 


414  THE   HELPERS 

"  The  memory  of  it  lives,"  he  said.  "  I  shall  always 
see  you  as  I  saw  you  that  morning,  whatever  comes 
'^between.  You  had  on  some  sort  of  a  dress  that  re- 
minded me  of  the  old  Greek  draperies,  and  you  were 
standing  on  the  arm  of  a  big  chair." 

They  were  at  the  gate,  and  she  let  him  open  it  for 
her.  Bartrow  and  Myra  were  waiting  for  them  at 
the  veranda  step.  He  realized  that  the  ground  was 
no  longer  safe,  and  would  have  taken  his  leave  at  the 
door.     But  Dick  protested  vigorously. 

"  No,  you  don't  —  drop  out  again  Hke  a  sliip  in  a 
fog.  We  've  been  laying  for  you.  Uncle  Steve  and 
I,  ever  since  you  absconded  last  summer,  and  you 
don't  get  away  this  time  without  taking  your  medi- 
cine. Run  him  in  there,  Connie,  and  hang  on  to 
him  while  I  go  get  my  slippers  and  a  cigar." 

"  There  "  was  the  cozy  library,  with  a  soft-coal  fire 
burning  cheerily  in  the  grate,  and  the  book-Kned 
walls  in\ating  enough  to  beckon  any  homeless  one. 
But  Jeffard  was  far  beyond  any  outreaching  of  en- 
compassments  inviting  or  repellent.  Constance  drew 
up  a  chair  for  him  before  the  fire,  but  he  stood  at  the 
back  of  it  and  looked  down  upon  her. 

"  Miss  EUiott,  there  is  something  that  I  should  like 
to  tell  you  about  —  if  it  is  far  enough  in  the  past," 
he  said,  when  they  were  alone. 

She  was  sitting  with  clasped  hands,  and  there  was 
a  look  in  her  eyes  m  the  swift  upglancing  that  he 
could  not  fathom.  So  he  waited  for  her  to  give  him 
leave. 

"  Is  it  about  Mr.  Lansdale  ?  "  she  asked. 


THE   HELPERS  415 

"  Yes.  I  was  with  him  up  to  the  last,  and  I 
thought  that  —  that  you  might  hke  to  know  what  I 
can  tell  you." 

She  gave  him  liberty,  and  he  told  the  story  of 
the  jaunt  afield,  dwelling  chiefly  on  the  day-to-day 
improvement  in  Lansdale's  health,  and  stumbling  a 
little  when  he  came  to  speak  of  their  last  evening 
together. 

"  It  was  a  hard  blow  for  me,"  he  said,  at  the  end 
of  it,  and  liis  voice  was  low  and  unsteady  with  emo- 
tion. "  You  know  what  had  gone  before  —  what  I 
had  lost  and  coidd  n't  regain ;  and  having  failed  at 
all  points  I  had  hoped  to  succeed  in  this  :  to  bring 
him  back  to  you  sound  and  well.  And  when  the 
possibility  was  fairly  within  reach  it  was  taken  out 
of  my  hands  forever." 

She  was  silent  for  a  little  time,  fighting  a  sharp 
battle  with  reticence  new-born  and  masterful.  When 
she  spoke  it  was  as  one  who  is  constrained  to  walk 
with  bare  feet  in  a  thorny  path  of  frankness. 

"  To  bring  him  back  to  me,  you  say  ;  and  in  your 
letter  to  Dick  you  said  that  your  sorrow  was  second 
only  to  mine.  Was  he  not  your  friend,  as  well  as 
mine  ?  " 

"  I  loved  him,"  said  Jeffard,  sunply  ;  "  but  not  as 
you  did." 

Again  the  struggle  was  upon  her,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment she  thought  that  the  sound  of  Dick's  returning 
footsteps  would  be  the  signal  of  a  blessed  release. 
But  the  heart  of  sincerity  would  not  be  denied. 

"  Let  there  be  no   more  misunderstandings,"  she 


416  THE   HELPERS 

said,  bravely.  "  We  have  all  wronged  you  so  deeply 
that  you  have  a  right  to  know  the  truth.  Mr.  Lans- 
dale  was  my  friend  —  as  he  was  yours." 

"  But  he  meant  to  be  more,"  Jeffard  persisted  — 
"  and  if  he  had  come  back  with  the  courage  of  health 
to  help  him  say  it,  you  would  not  have  denied  him." 

She  made  a  little  gesture  of  dissent. 

"  His  health  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  And  — 
and  he  said  it  before  he  went  away." 

Jeffard  smiled.  "  You  have  halved  the  bitter- 
ness of  it  for  me  —  as  you  would  have  lessened  my 
reward  if  I  had  succeeded  in  bringing  him  back 
alive  and  weU.  My  motive  was  mixed,  as  most 
human  promptings  are,  —  I  can  see  that  now,  — 
but  the  better  part  of  it  was  a  desire  to  prove  to 
you  that  I  could  do  it  for  your  sake.  My  debt  to 
you  is  so  large  that  nothing  short  of  self-effacement 
can  ever  discharge  it." 

"  How  can  you  say  that ! "  she  burst  out. 
"  Was  n't  I  one  of  the  three  who  ought  to  have  be- 
lieved in  you  ?  —  the  one  who  promised  and  failed 
and  made  it  harder  for  you  at  every  turn  ?  You 
owe  me  nothing  but  scorn." 

Pie  contradicted  her  gravely.  "  I  owe  you  every- 
thing that  has  been  saved  out  of  the  wreck  of  the 
man  who  once  sat  beside  you  in  the  theatre  and 
found  faiUt  with  the  world  for  his  own  shortcom- 
ings. You  are  remorseful  now  because  you  tliink 
you  misjudged  me ;  but  you  must  believe  me  when 
I  tell  you  that  it  was  my  love  for  you  that  saved 
me,  at  the  end  of  the  ends,  —  that  kept  me  from 


THE   HELPERS  417 

doing  precisely  what  you  thought  I  had  done.  It 
was  a  fearful  temptation.  Garvin  had  fairly  tossed 
the  thing  into  the  abyss." 

"  I  know  ;  but  it  was  only  a  temptation,  and  you 
did  not  yield  to  it." 

"  No ;  I  was  able  to  put  it  aside  in  the  strength 
born  of  four  words  of  yours.  At  a  time  when  I 
had  forgotten  God  and  so  was  willing  to  think 
that  He  had  forgotten  me,  you  said  '  I  believe  in 
you.'     You  remember  it  ?  " 

She  nodded  assent,  looking  up  with  shining  eyes 
to  say,  "  Don't  make  me  ashamed  that  I  had  n't  the 
strength  to  go  on  believing  in  you." 

"  Don't  say  that.  You  have  nothing  to  regTet. 
My  silence  was  the  price  of  Garvin's  safety,  at  first, 
and  I  knew  what  the  cost  woidd  be  when  I  deter- 
mined to  pay  it.  Later  on  the  faidt  was  mine ;  but 
then  I  found  that  I  had  unconsciously  been  counting 
upon  blind  loyalty ;  yours,  and  Dick's,  and  Lans- 
dale's ;  —  counting  upon  it  after  I  had  done  every- 
thing to  make  it  impossible.  I  had  told  Dick  in 
the  beginning,  and  I  tried  to  tell  Lansdale.  Dick 
wanted  to  believe  in  me,  —  has  wanted  to  all  along, 
I  think,  —  but  Lansdale  had  drawn  his  own  con- 
clusions, and  he  made  my  explanation  fit  them.  It 
hurt,  and  I  gave  place  to  bitterness." 

"  And  yet  you  woidd  have  saved  him  for  — 
for  —  " 

""  For  that  which  I  coidd  n't  have  myself.  Yes ; 
but  you  know  the  motive." 

She  met  his  gaze  with  a  new  light  shining  in  the 


418  THE  HELPERS 

steadfast  eyes.  "  I  am  not  worthy,"  she  said, 
softly ;  and  he  went  quickly  to  stand  beside  her. 

"  You  are  worthy ;  worthy  of  the  best  that  any 
man  can  give  you,  Constance.  How  little  I  have 
to  offer  you,  beyond  a  love  that  was  strong  enough 
to  stand  aside  for  the  sake  of  your  happiness,  you 
know.  Ever  since  that  afternoon  when  you  strove 
with  me  for  my  own  soul  I  've  been  living  on  your 
compassion,  and  it  is  very  sweet  —  but  I  want 
more.     May  I  hope  to  win  more  —  in  time  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head,  and  his  heart  stopped  beat- 
ing. But  it  came  alive  again  with  a  tumultuous 
bound  at  the  words  of  the  soft-spoken  reply. 

"  You  won  it  long  ago,  so  long  that  I  've  for- 
gotten when  and  how.  And  it 's  strong,  too,  like 
yours.  I  've  tried  hard  enough  to  starve  it,  but  it 
has  lived  —  lived  on  nothing." 

She  was  sitting  in  a  low  willow  rocker,  and  the 
distance  between  them  was  altogether  impossible. 
So  he  went  down  on  one  knee  and  put  his  arms 
about  her ;  and  but  for  his  manhood  would  have  put 
his  face  in  her  bosom  and  wept. 

"Do  you  really  mean  that,  Constance?  "  he  said, 
when  he  had  drunk  his  fill  from  the  deep  wells  in 
the  loving  eyes. 

"  I  do." 

"  In  spite  of  what  you  believed  I  had  done  to 
Garvin,  and  of  what  you  believed  I  was  capable  of 
doing  with  Margaret?  " 

"  In  spite  of  everything.     Was  n't  it  dreadful  ?  " 

"  It  was  —  "     There  was  no  superlative  strong 


THE  HELPERS  419 

enough,  though  he  sought  for  it  painfully  and  with 
tears.  "  God  help  me,  sweetheart,  I  believe  I  shall 
go  mad  with  the  joy  of  it."  And  having  said  that, 
speech  forsook  him,  and  the  silence  that  is  golden 
came  between.     After  a  while  she  broke  it  to  say : 

"  Dick  is  good,  isn't  he?  —  to  be  so  long  finding 
his  slippers  and  the  cigar." 

"  Dick  is  a  man  and  a  brother.  I  wonder  if 
we  can  persuade  him  to  give  me  a  place  on  the 
Myriad." 

"  You  woidd  n't  take  it." 

"  Why  would  n't  I  ?  " 

"  Because  you  own  an  undivided  third  of  a  richer 
mine  than  the  Little  Myriad,  and  —  and  you  are 
going  to  marry  another  third,"  she  said,  with  sweet 
audacity. 

There  was  a  hassock  convenient,  and  he  drew  it 
up  to  sit  at  her  feet. 

"  Break  it  as  gently  as  you  can,"  he  entreated. 
"  My  cup  is  too  full  to  hold  much  more.  Besides, 
I  've  been  in  Mexico  for  the  last  three  months,  and 
nothing  happens  tliei-e." 

"  It 's  the  Midas,"  she  explained,  beginning  in 
the  midst.  "  You  saved  it  for  Garvin,  but  he  was 
only  a  half-owner." 

"  And  the  other  ?  " 

"  Was  my  father.  When  it  came  to  the  appor- 
tionment they  both  said  '  thirds,'  and  that  is  what 
poppa  and  Dick  are  waiting  to  say  to  you  now." 

He  fomid  his  feet  rather  unsteadily. 

"  I  can't  take  it,"  he  said ;  "  you  know  I  can't. 


420  THE   HELPERS 

It  would  be  too  much  like  taking  a  reward  for  an 
act  of  simple  justice.  Moreover,  I  have  my  reward, 
and  it  is  n't  to  be  spoken  of  in  the  same  day  with 
any  IMidas  of  them  all.     I  '11  go  and  tell  them  so." 

She  rose  and  stood  beside  him,  lifting  the  loving 
eyes  to  his.  The  soft  glow  of  the  fii*eliglit  made  a 
golden  aureole  of  the  red-brown  hair,  and  the  sweet 
lips  were  tremulous. 

"  If  you  must,  Henry.  But  loving-kindness  is  n't 
always  in  giving  and  serving  and  relinquishing. 
My  father  has  his  ideal  of  justice,  too,  and  so  has 
James  Garvin.  But  for  you,  they  say,  the  Midas 
would  never  have  been  found,  or,  having  been 
found,  would  straightway  have  been  lost  again.  I 
know  the  money  is  nothing  to  you,  —  to  us  two,  who 
have  so  much  ;  but  won't  you  make  a  little  conces- 
sion, a  little  sacrifice  of  pride,  —  for  their  sakes, 
Henry  ?  " 

He  took  her  face  between  his  hands  and  bent  to 
kiss  the  hps  of  pleading. 

"Not  for  their  sakes,  nor  for  all  the  world  be- 
side, my  beloved  ;  but  always  and  always  for  yours. 
Come ;  let  us  go  together." 


ELECTROTYPED  AND  PRINTED 
BY   H.   O.    HOUGHTON    AND   CO. 

(^be  fiitergibe  prcjgig 

CAMBRIDGE,  MASS.,  U.  S.  A. 


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SEP       5      \r^V 

:;50'Ve4JD        \ 

RFCD  I  n 

OCTU'64-IOPW 

u  Z  :-  1975  7 

C  '■ 

;  21  107F,  '■; 

BBC  CIB.     ^'' 

LD  21-100m-7,'40 (6936s) 

M3652S 


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